Owaranai UtaAn Endless Song
by Isis1
Summary: Crows Zero Fic. Centers around my OFC,Serizawa Tamao,Bando Hideto,and Izaki Shun. She drinks like a fish,smokes like a chimney,and has a killer right hook. Just ask Tokaji Yuji. These were my fave characters so I decided to elaborate more on them. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Owaranai Uta (An Endless Song)**

The door bell rang . . . once – twice – three times, a pause, and then it rang nonstop. With a groan, a very short, pale body fell off the couch, abruptly waking from a deep slumber. Dark Green eyes popped open, annoyed greatly at such a rude awakening. "Ughh," she groaned again, wiping the eye bright from her eyes. What the hell? Marie McMiller pulled herself off the floor clumsily, taking the time to glance at the clock on the wall. Midnight. Again, what the hell?

"Ome!" a demanding, brusque voice yelled from the other side of the door. "Kochi oide yo! Sammui!"

(Hey! Get over here! It's cold!)

"Naturally," Marie mumble, not speeding up one step. Yawning, she continued to amble toward the door, running a hand through a mess of short Red hair. That did nothing to make it any less unkempt.

"Hayaku!" the voice yelled again, impatient and freezing. Then the door shook with an all mighty force, echoing through out the tiny apartment. (Hurry up!)

All she could do was blink dumbly at the door, thinking, "did he just kick MY door?" Finally, the girl opened the it, revealing a very aggravated Bando Hideto. As her eyes moved upward from his feet to his face, a thrill of lust ran through her body, taking in the big Black boots, the leather, and of course his dark, dangerous face. Bando, a tall, domineering figure, with looks so fierce, that half the time Marie couldn't bear to look upon him. Yet, she found she could turn away either.

"Osoi na," he said, brushing past her into the apartment. (You're slow.)

Marie stood in the same spot, a blank expression on her round countenance. "Sure," she told the frigid night air sarcastically, "come on in, make yourself at home." Shutting the door, she locked it securely. When she turned around, Bando was all ready lounging on the couch. A small disdainful look came upon her at seeing that he hadn't even bothered to take off his muddy boots. For a few moments she merely studied him. His eyes were closed, that famous shadowy, pensive expression etched across his brow. God, she thought, does he even know how utterly beautiful he is . . . at least when he's quiet, she added with a smirk. There were only two possible reasons that he was here right now: one, his parents were fighting again, or two, he wanted to get laid.

"Biru nomitai ka?" Marie eventually asked, her voice a whisper of softness. (Want a beer?)

"Ie." Bando never opened his eyes, barely acknowledging her existence. Then, he lifted his arm, holding out a hand in her general direction. That was strange, even for him. She had never seen Bando Hideto so subdued, it was almost like he was a newborn kitten. Usually he came and went like the wind, taking what he wanted and leaving the rest.

After a few moments, she moved to stand beside him. It was then she noticed his face. Obviously he had been in a fight, a really big one from the looks of it. Without thinking, Marie reached down to touch his face, tracing the contours. When she came to a particular tender spot, he flinched. Bando's hand came up swiftly, latching onto her wrist tightly. Each of his eyes opened one at a time to peer at her harshly.

His hand on her wrist was like unadulterated fire compared to her icy flesh. Only his gaze could burn more brightly than his touch. "Daijobu?" she whispered, for lack of better words. (Are you okay?) Bando's answer was to move her hand to rest over his heart. It was still pulsating wildly, pumping hot, excited blood through his veins. It was times like these that Marie could fool herself into believing that she was in love with the boy; that he was in love with her. But she knew better – a lot better. If he had been in a fight (which he clearly had been) then he wanted what every man wanted: to calm himself in the arms of a woman.

"Kimi ga hoshii," he told her not even blinking. (I want you.) This only proved her suspicions to be correct. What a typical male.

"Dekinai," she replied, moving her hand away from his body. "Ima ja nakute." (I can't. Not now.)

Of course that wasn't good enough for him. Bando wasn't the type of guy you refused. More precisely he did not like to be refused by her. Marie wasn't looking at him anymore, but staring at her hands as if they were the most interesting things in the world. She knew that if she did meet his eyes, she probably would have given in.

In a blink of an eye, Bando grabbed her by both arms, pulling her on top of him so she lay partly between his legs. Their faces were so close now, Marie could smell the leather and the cigarette smoke that perpetually lingered on his skin. Likewise, Bando subtly inhaled the light scent of Vanilla. She always smelled like Vanilla, even the cigarettes that she smoked were Vanilla flavoured. Slowly, he kissed his way up the side of her face, from her chin to her ear, only to murmur huskily, "Ii kaori." (You smell good.) Teasingly, he grazed her ear lobe with his teeth.

At long last, Marie fell limp into his arms. He pulled her tightly to his body, making sure that she could feel every inch of him. Bando found that her diminutive body fit so perfectly into his, which never ceased to amaze him. While she was terribly short (five foot one at the most) and well rounded, he was tall, and lithe. He wanted to tell her so many times – tell her look how our bodies fit so perfectly together. But he didn't, and never would. There were a lot of things that Bando wanted to tell her, yet when the time came, his words fell silent.

Instead of speaking sweet, candy coated endearments, Bando entangled a hand into her vibrant hair, pulling her mouth to his. A soft noise of pleasure came from her lips, making him grin into the kiss. He never had to fight for dominance when it came down to it, she always let him take her. Bando ran a hand up under the back of the over sized t-shirt she was wearing, tracing the curve of her back. Her skin was cool and pallid, a beam of moonlight cutting through water. His hand moved, sliding around under the front of the shirt, cupping one breast.

Marie sighed, not out of pleasure, but out of weariness. Is there anything more than this? It was almost like a routine between the two of them. They would go weeks without seeing or hearing from one another, then Bando would show up at her door, and she'd give in. She wondered, is this all I amount to to him? Some cheap toy to be played with from time to time, then sat back on the shelf until the next game? When Marie felt his hand slide lower, she abruptly pulled away from the kiss.

Bando immediately opened his eyes, glaring at her with astonishment. She wanted him to say something – anything, or maybe even look honestly hurt by her rejection. But she realized that was too much to ask of Bando Hideto. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, counting the minutes that passed. Suddenly, he pushed her off of him roughly. Marie let out a startled noise, landing on the far end of the couch. All at once it made the girl feel a bit guilty: she had wounded his pride.

He swung his legs over the couch, his boot clad feet hitting the floor with a loud thud. Watching as one of the muscles in his face clench, Marie felt as if she should say something. She didn't. There were really no more words to be said, not anymore. Bando whipped his head to the side to stare at her. The girl recoiled as if she were expecting him to hit her. He scoffed, then shook his head not understanding girls at all.

"Tada atashi to netain desho." (All you wanna' do is sleep with me.) It seemed like she had found her voice after all. That cleared up everything for Bando. But he still couldn't wrap his head around about how the gears turned in a girl's head. Let's be honest for a moment, what guy really does? That aside, the relationship they shared was tumultuous – to say the least. It had never been built on foundations of love or promises. Mainly lust (for Bando) and having nothing better to do (for Marie.) They hadn't even know each for long. He had only transferred to Suzuran at the beginning of the school year, and Marie went to a special school for gifted musicians/singers/song writers. Somewhere along the way, the girl had hoped that it wouldn't only be just sex or whatever.

Pulling her knees to her chest, Marie wondered how she always manage to get into these predicaments. Ah, now she remembered, there was usually a boy involved when it came to her suffering. Bando Hideto was just one on the long list of heartaches that she had racked up.

"Kimi tsummane," Bando finally said, then stood up, walking directly to the door. (You're boring.) Then he was gone. There were no tears, no dramatics, and no fisticuffs, simply because she (normally) wasn't that type of girl.

After a while Marie stood up, grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the table. Walking to the door, she picked up her black trench coat on the way out. There were two chairs outside the door to her apartment and the neighbour's door. This was where she liked to come to think and smoke. It was cramped in her apartment, a tight little space that she felt trapped in most of the time. The view wasn't much to brag about, this being one of the low income housing complexes. Yep, the poor side of town. But it was home now, it had been for nearly four years. She was only here on a scholarship, and you better believe they weren't going to pay for some swanky, upscale place in Tokyo or Kyoto.

The night was unbearably cold, moisture hanging in the air from the previous downpour. Though she was chilled to the bone, on the brink of shivering, the atmosphere somehow made her feel alive. Footsteps sounded up the stairs from her left. Inhaling a deep breath of smoke, she leaned back lazily in her chair. The footsteps stopped at the top of the stairs, making her turn her head to see who it was.

"Nanka ata no?" Serizawa Tamao asked his next door neighbour. (What's going on?) Marie didn't answer him right away, she merely took in his appearance. He too, was all scrapes, bruises, mud, and enough blood to donate dried on his clothes. Not to mention his face.

"Betsu ni," she finally answered, flicking her cigarette out over the railing. "Daijobu?" (Nothing much. Are you okay?)

"Ma ma," he shrugged nonchalantly. (So-so.)

Serizawa and Marie had live next door to one another for almost the entire duration of her attending school in Japan. So, in a way, you could say they grew up together. It was only a couple of years ago though that from time to time they'd sit outside their apartments, share a beer or two (or a lot actually) smoke, and in general just bull shit.

"Oe suru hodo busu dayo," Marie told him with a half-grin on her face. (You look like shit.)

"Ah, thank you," he said, sarcasm dripping from his words, "yasashii ne." (You're so nice.)

"Sore shitteru, kawaii mo." (I know, I'm cute, too.)

That made him snort, finding it all rather funny at the moment. Not only was Marie his neighbour, but she was the resident babysitter for the complex. Serizawa's eight year old little Brother loved the hell out of her. He never did see why. In fact most kids loved Marie, something she herself never got. It wasn't that she liked or disliked children. For the most part they were "okay" in small doses.

"Oka-san . . ." Serizawa began, but she interrupted before could finish. (Mom . . .)

"Wakatteru. Atashitachi hanasokatta." (I know. We talked.)

"Ah, sokka." (I see.)

Marie was scheduled to babysit Friday night. Babysitting didn't bother her, not really anyway. Five days out of the week she went to school, after school she worked part time at a small cafe as a waitress/cook, and usually on the weekends her life was filled with little imps. Also known as Children. For an eighteen almost nineteen year old girl, her life was pretty mundane. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happened. This year was her last year at the school, and quite frankly she had no idea where she was going or how she was going to get there.

Serizawa unlocked the door to his apartment, about to go inside, but immediately stopped when Marie called out to him. "Ne, Tamao?" (Hey, Tamao.)That damn near startled him: she had never called him that before. The girl was always so formal when addressing people by their names, even her best friend she usually added san or chan. He sometimes thought she was more Japanese than him. Which was funny in its own right, if you thought about long enough. "Zettai daijobu?" (Are you really sure you're okay?)

" . . . so," he nodded, looking greatly perplexed. She never pushed the subject of his well being. Never.

"Tokio do shitteru?" (How's Tokio doing?)

"Tokio genki." (He's fine.)

"Sore kiite ureshii." (I'm happy to hear that.)

"Ome," Serizawa took a few steps closer to where she was sitting. She looked up at him briefly, but it was long enough for him to see tears streaking down her face. His fist clenched involuntarily then unclenched. One of the only things that could make him weak in the knees was to see a girl cry. "Do shittan dayo?" (Hey. What's wrong?)

"Ohh," Marie furiously swiped away a few uncontrollable tears, "nani mo." (Nothing.)

"Sonna no uso yo," he sat down in the chair beside her. "Naku shite." (That's a lie. You're crying.)

All Marie managed was to sniffle pathetically. Just why was she crying? Hadn't she been the one to put a stop the her-Bando thing in the first place. There were sudden second thoughts about not having him in her life. There just had to be more – more to life than casual snogs and such. Right? Right?

"Baka ni suruna yo," Serizawa sighed, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his shirt. He lit two, handing one to her. (Don't think I'm stupid.) Even though she loathed the brand he smoked, she took a long drag. In reality she thought that she was the stupid one. "Kimi to Bando, daro?" (You and Bando, right?)

"Eh?" Marie asked, not really surprised that Serizawa knew what was going on. They did live right next to each other after all. What did surprise her was that he had chosen to not comment on it until now. Generally, the boy liked to run off at the mouth, in her opinion. "Shitteruta, huh?" (What? You knew, huh?)

"Mochiron," he resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her thinking he was THAT ignorant. "Demo . . .Nande, Bando?" (Of course. But . . . why him?)

"Nande dame nano." (Why not.)

"Aitsu imaichi." (He's a loser.)

"Tabun, chigaun ja nai no." (Maybe, maybe not.)

"Kiite . . ." he started, but Marie really wasn't in the mood to be given advice. Especially from him. (Listen . . .)

"Kankei nai daro," she said evenly. "Kankei nai wa." (It's none of your business. It means nothing to me.)

"Honto ni?" (You sure?)

"Ii, honto ni." (Yes, I'm sure.) Marie stood up, flicking her cigarette off into the distance. "Tabako arigato na." (Thanks for the cigarette.) She turned to open her door, but before she went in, the girl added, "Oyasumi." (Night.)

"Ah, ja ne." (Yeah, see you later.)

…......................................

"Come on!" Aizawa Ruka pleaded with Marie. "Do it!"

"No," Marie steadily blew a stream of smoke out of her mouth.

Aizawa Ruka and Marie McMiller attended the same school, and had been friends since their second year. While Ruka was an abnormally talented singer, Marie was the genius song writer. The musical institute they went to wasn't just for any average person though. The school consisted of singers/musicians/song writers. And there were some pretty steep requirements that you had to have or your application wouldn't even be good enough for the school board to wipe their asses with. If you were a vocalist, like Ruka, you had to have a good knowledge of English, Latin, French, German, and Italian. All the greatest operas were written in one of the those languages. If you were a song writer, like, Marie then you had to know how to read and write in one of those languages. Lastly, for a musician, you had to know how to play at least three different instruments, piano being a must for one of the three. Hence, more often than not, Marie and Ruka conversed in English rather than in Ruka's native tongue.

Marie threw her cigarette to the ground, crushing it out with the toe of her knee-high, lace up boot. Ruka looked a little disgusted, yet said nothing. At the moment Ruka was begging her to sing the the theme song to Laverne and Shirley with her. She also wanted to link arms and run down the street. Of course they had done this many times before, so that wasn't so unusual. But Marie was in a dour mood, so she didn't want to do anything but chain smoke and drink coffee.

Pulling her black trench coat tighter around her body, she shivered in the brisk air. Winter was on the heels of Autumn, soon snow would be on the ground. Marie, perpetually the odd one, adored the freezing weather and rain. And it rained quite often in Japan. The climate was probably the thing she loved most about the four tiny islands.

"Ne," Ruka moved in front of her friend, breaking the abstracted look on her face, "did something happen?" Marie looked up at Ruka, feeling very short at seeing the statuesque girl in front of her. Most of the time, she didn't like to divulge any of her problems or worries on her friends, fearing it would burden them. She was a loner by nature, but managed to keep a few good friends around.

"No," Marie belatedly said.

"Oh, okay," Ruka nodded blandly. She had a suspicion the sourness in Marie's behaviour that morning had something to do with Bando. Even though she knew that Bando really didn't have anything to do with her and Kyoko's kidnapping, Ruka still had a strong distaste for the guy. The girl also knew that Marie was a big girl and could take care of herself. That didn't stop her from worrying or carrying about her though. "Did he – hurt you?" A bit of trepidation slipped through her tone.

"Ha!" Marie practically fell over laughing at the idea. "I hurt myself. Again."

"Are you gonna' be okay?"

"You know me, I'm always okay."

"Good. Wanna' go get that coffee now?" Ruka smiled, elaborating on how truly eloquent she was. Their favourite coffee shop was just around the corner, a tiny, cozy place called Zille's. Marie grinned in spite of her uneasy feelings under the surface; coffee tended to do that to her.

"Believe it!" Marie held out a thumbs up sign, purposely grinning retardedly. Ruka rolled her eyes at the jest, thinking her friend watched way too much television. Playfully, the Red Head linked arms with Ruka, beginning to sing the theme song to Laverne and Shirley.

"Schlimiel, schlimazel, hasenpfeffer, incorporated!" the girls sang and danced merrily. They ran down the street full speed, which awarded them with odd, freaked out looks. But they didn't really care. Besides, nobody could hear them well enough to know what they were singing.

By the time they got to the coffee shop, the two were much out breath. For a few moments they stood in front of the coffee shop, clinging to each other, laughing hysterically. After that, Marie was all ready in a better mood, and the prospect of a steaming cup of coffee helped, too. The only down side to singing that song was that now it would probably be in her head all day.

Then, Ruka's cell phone rang out with some bothersome chirping noises. She pulled it out of her purse, answering it directly. "Moshi moshi?" Ruka greeted, "Ah, Oka-san, doshita no?" (Hello. Mom, what's wrong?) Aizawa Ruka crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at Marie, who in turn hid her titters behind a hand. The taller girl walked off so Marie wouldn't hear her Mother's chastising.

Marie moved to lean on the glass window in front of Zille's. She dug out a cigarette, lighting it quickly. Letting her eyes wander aimlessly about, they landed on three figures walking up the street in her direction. Instantaneously, the recognized them. One was Serizawa Tamao, the other Tatsukawa Tokio who in between, and the last boy . . . Well, he looked familiar somehow, but Marie couldn't quite place a name. Should I know him, she asked herself.

As Marie was shamelessly staring at the trio walking up the street, she had no idea that she was being watched as well. Across from Zille's Izaki Shun and Tokaji Yuji were pretty much thinking the same thing . . . "why the hell is she checking out Genji/Tamao?" It was kind of unnerving because it looked like she either going to eat them or turn into a thirteen year old squealing fan girl. Unnerving indeed.

Damn, Marie thought to herself, eye threatening to twitch at any moment, is it just me or is Serizawa-kun looking good today? Wait a minute! Did I just think that? Yes, yes you did, idiot. He's your friend, stop acting so loser-style. You're just feeling lonely. Pathetic. Shut up brain! Shut up, shut up, shut up!!! Marie pulled at her hair, yanking on it as hard as she could. Naturally, she would choose to argue with herself and have a freak out just as Serizawa, Tokio, and Genji walked up. They gave one another a look, wondering just what in the hell was happening.

Her kohl rimmed eyes were clenched shut, blocking out everything as she tried to convince herself that she really hadn't just scammed on Serizawa Tamao. Yeah, good luck with that. Marie tugged at hair once more, then said loudly, "God, would you just shut up all ready! I fucking hate you!"

"Ahem . . ." Tokio cleared his throat carefully as to not anger her, "daijobu?" (Are you okay?)

"What?!" she cried, jumping at the sound of his voice. Opening her eyes, she took a few quick steps backwards to distance herself from the three boys. How embarrassing. "Oh shit . . ."

Kyugatsu Jurokunichi, Yabusame

September 16, Horseback Archery of Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine

(Kamakura)

**Author's Note and Disclaimer:**

**I don't own anything, and have anything that you'd want, so there. Haha!**

***INTERESTING FACTS & MISCELLANEOUS CRAPOLA***

**Most of the Japanese used in this story is very informal and can get a bit racy, so be warned if you use any of these sayings, heart attacks are to be expected. At least in Japan. Lol. So it's okay if you want to impress your friends with this awesome vocabulary. **

**Next, the title to my story is Owaranai Uta, which is the title to a song from favourite band (tied with the Clash of course) The Blue Hearts. It means An Endless Song. Go get the song, listen to it, look up the translated lyrics, you'll fall in love with The Blue Hearts! **

**I guess I should add, that while my computer was broken, I was forced to write out the entire ****story by hand. So, I've filled up two five subject Five Star Notebooks with this Epic Tale. Be assured there are lots more chapters coming. I just need to get my butt in gear and transfer it from paper to computer. **

**Last but not least, my Japanese is a bit rusty, but when in doubt always remember, SOV (subject object verb.) In the Japanese language, this is how their sentence structuring is. The verb always comes last. :D **

**I love you all, and I love Worst (Crows Zero.)**

"**Isn't it better to live detested as a Crow than to live as a caged bird?" - Takahashi Hiroshi (Worst and Crows Manga)**

**Lyrics to Theme Song From Laverne and Shirley**

**Making Our Dreams Come True**

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.  
Schlimiel, schlimazel, hasenpfeffer, incorporated!  
We're gonna do it!  
Give us any chance, we'll take it.  
Give us any rule, we'll break it.  
We're gonna make our dreams come true.  
Doin' it our way.  
Nothing's gonna turn us back now,  
Straight ahead and on the track now.  
We're gonna make our dreams come true,  
Doin' it our way.  
There is nothing we won't try,  
Never heard the word impossible.  
This time there's no stopping us.  
We're gonna do it.  
On your mark, get set, and go now,  
Got a dream and we just know now,  
We're gonna make our dream come true.  
And we'll do it our way, yes our way.  
Make all our dreams come true,  
And do it our way, yes our way,  
Make all our dreams come true  
For me and you.


	2. Chapter 2 POINT 1 Kisu Shite Hoshii

**Chapter II.I**

**Kisu Shite Hoshii**

**(I Want To Kiss.)**

"Daijobu?" Tokio repeated, worried about the girl's state of mind. (Are you okay?)

Marie chuckled nervously, thoroughly embarrassed by now. Feeling the heat on her face, she thought she must look like a Plum by now. Oh, the mortification . . . In the meantime, Tokaji and Izaki crossed the street, joining their friends. Tokaji came to stand beside Serizawa and Izaki by Genji. She still couldn't quite figure out who Genji was, but she imagined he must be some school mate of Serizawa's and Tokio's.

"Hai, daijobu," she finally stopped her insane giggling to answer him. "Nanka kawatte koto ata?" Marie eyed the bandage around his head leerily. She hadn't seen him around in a while, only just recently even knew that he had had brain surgery. (Yeah, I'm okay. What's up?)

"Ah," he subconsciously touched his head, glad that she had come back to her senses, "betsu ni kawwanai." (Nothing special)

"Sore o kiite yokatta," she smiled brightly at him, then her eyes washed over the other boys standing around her. (I'm glad to know that.) Tokio and Marie always spoke politely to one another out of simplistic mutual respect. When she saw Serizawa smirking, she had the sudden urge to clock him one. That was ordinary for her: when he was around, she couldn't decide whether she wanted to hit him then kill him, or kill him then hit him. The tall, lanky boy and the blonde one looked as if they were missing out on something, not quite understanding how Serizawa Tamao and Tokio knew the bizarre girl. At last, her eyes fell on Tokaji Yuji. He considered her suspiciously – or lustfully, Marie never could tell what that damned boy was thinking. Ignoring him completely, Marie asked Serizawa, "Tomodachi?" Then she motioned toward Genji and Izaki. (Your friends?)

"Un," he nodded slightly, pointing at each of them in turn, "Takiya Genji to Izaki Shun." (Yeah, Genji Takiya and Shun Izaki.)

"Naruhodo," Marie said, then bowed slightly to each of them, "atashi no namae wa Marie desu. Ome ni kakarete ureshii." (I see. I'm Marie. Pleased (happy) to meet you.) The perfect formal greeting/introduction, something she hadn't done in a long time. Partly because she didn't get out much to meet new people.

Genji and Izaki gawked at her freely, clearly astounded. Suddenly, they remembered their manners and bowed back at the same length she had. "Hajimemashite," they said one after the other in quick succession. Geez . . . when was the last time they did that, huh? Forever and a day in all likelihood. Tokaji crowed with chiding laughter, turning his head from the whole pitiful scene of niceties.

Her eyes flicked dangerously over to Tokaji, the dim light of the cloudy day and the kohl eyeliner expatiating on how truly Green her eyes were. Serizawa rolled his eyes . . . here we go again. Didn't Tokaji ever learn? On first meeting, Tokaji and Marie never liked one another. Actually, he really hated her. A lot. All at once the mood changed, a fiery friction entering the air.

"Nani yo?" Marie's voice cut through the silence, low and near snarling. (You wanna' say something?)

Tokaji chuckled, crossed his arms across his chest, then smilingly said, "Ahondara yade." (What an idiot.)

"Nani itta no?" (What did you say?) Her small pallid hands clenched into fists so tight that her knuckles were pure Alabaster.

"Baka daro." (You're an idiot.) It was like watching and listening to a rendition of Clash of the Titans or the showdown between Obi-Wan and Darth Maul. Not only did Tokaji find her irritating, but she was a foreigner. He considered Marie "the Enemy" (teki) not just because she was White, because he wasn't THAT racist. But he and everyone else that went to Suzuran knew by now that she was sleeping with Bando. Simply put, Tokaji was jealous that Bando was getting laid and he wasn't.

Marie was quiet for many, many moments, her mind full a thousand ideas about how to torture him. Damn, she really, really abhorred this guy. "Kiite yo . . . debu. Korosuzo." Her fists remained clenched in rage, her voice never once wavering. "Kurosuzo." (Listen to me . . . pig. I'll fucking kill you. I'll kill you.)

"Oh? Masaka, kanjo nashi." (I doubt it, you don't have the balls.)

"You know what?" Her fists finally unclenched, allowing the blood to flow once more. In her irate irrational thinking she reverted back to English. Marie squinted, speaking rapidly, her clipped voice rising to an almost Cockney accent, "I really hate you. And your face is so ugly your Mum tried to drown you when your were bourn. "

"Nanda kor'ya?!" Tokaji dead panned. (What the fuck's this?!) All he could surmise was that she had just said something about his Mother. "Nante itten dayo?" (What did you say?)

"Oh, I'm so bloody sor-ryyy," she jumped up and down a few times, a malicious smile upon her lips. "You don't understand a damn word I'm saying do you, idiot? If I wasn't in such a good mood right now, I'd fucking kick you in the nads, then tell all my friends you're gay, and then tell everyone that passes by that your dick is the size of my pinky finger!" Marie held up her finger up in his face to emphasize her point, then she jerked it away.

This only served to confuse all five boys even more than they all ready were. A short, white girl jumping up down on the sidewalk while screaming was funny and not at the same time. Then there was the fact they only picked up on two words: fucking and dick. After all, they were teenage boys, so that goes without saying.

Striding up to Tokaji serenely, her face went back to it's normal colour, all the ruby anger vanishing. Marie stood on her tip toes, getting up in the boys face as much she could. She put a finger to her temple, tapping quickly while saying, "Kangaeta mite!" (Think about it!) Then she whirled around in a flurry of black trench coat and heavy knee high boots, stomping her way toward the coffee shop.

Marie didn't get too far; Tokaji yelled in the most obnoxious voice imaginable, "Ome, haku jin! Bando do shitteru? Ima made nannin esu efu ita?" The boy sounded most pleased with himself. Serizawa inwardly groaned, this wasn't going to be pretty. Nope, not at all. (Hey, white girl! How's Bando doing? How many guys have you fucked now?)

In a few swift, consecutive movements, she whipped her body around and jumped on Tokaji. The others jumped out of the way as she let out an anger induced cry. Tokaji Yuji lost his balance directly, falling onto his back with Marie on top. With all the strength she possessed, she heaved back her right fist, punching him squarely in the nose. Then again and again. She would have kept going, but Serizawa intervened. He lifted her from under the arms easily, dragging her kicking and screaming unintelligible curses. Roughly, Serizawa threw the girl over his shoulder. Marie continued to protest, trying to free herself from this new position. To no avail.

"Let – me – go!" she punctuated each word with a punch to his back. "Bukkoroshite yaru! Namen ja neyo!" (I'll kick your ass. Don't fuck with me!)

Finally Ruka managed to get her Mother off her back, and at that very moment managed to snag the last bit of her friend's words. She rushed up to Serizawa who was holding Marie down tightly with both hands. Tokio had helped Tokaji up and had a hand on his shoulder, ready to hold him back if necessary.

"Nanika ata no?!" Ruka asked exasperated at seeing Marie atop Serizawa and Tokaji Yuji bleeding from the nose profusely. Warm tears washed down the Red Head's face. She had been crying the whole time as she had wailed on Tokaji and even more when Serizawa picked her up. (What's going on here?!)

"Ruka-chan!" Marie held out a hand to the girl, struggling to reach her. "Taskute, Ruka-chan! Itai, itai, itai!" (Help me, Ruka! It hurts, it huts, it hurts!)

"Yamatte!" Ruka cried, shoving Serizawa from behind. "Hottoite agete!" (Stop it! Leave her alone!)

Serizawa swung around to face Aizawa Ruka, in the process making Marie dizzy. He eyed Ruka curiously, then said, "Iya, konojo ochisuite." (No, she needs to calm down.) He swung back around to look at his motley crew of friends, mainly Tokaji though. "Asena yo, na? Dame da." (Calm down, all right? You shouldn't of done that.) Serizawa walked away from all them, putting as much distance as he could between Marie and Tokaji. He wasn't quite sure if Tokaji would actually go after Marie, being a girl an all. One could never tell with a guy like Tokaji.

At long last, he sat her back down on the ground. Swiftly, she stepped away from him, glowering demonically. He towered over her, unimpressed and highly agitated. In all his years of knowing Marie, he never dreamed that she had a killer right punch. Tokaji, bleeding and pride wounded was living proof of that one.

"Nakinai de," he reached out for her, but his hand dropped just before it actually made contact. (Don't cry.) Serizawa didn't know exactly what he was going to do, but he had had a sudden urge to wipe her tears away.

"Kirai," she shook her head at the madness of it all, "Tokaji daikirai." (I hate it, I really hate him.) "Cho tabako ga hoshii." (I really want a cigarette.)

Silently, he took a pack out of his shirt pocket, handing them to her. Marie pulled one out, popping it between her lips. Still (literally) shaking from rage, she couldn't work the damned lighter. "Chikusho," she chastised herself, "baka da." (Damn it, what you did was stupid.) Sniffling, the girl berated herself some more in her head. Not knowing exactly how to act, Serizawa took the cigarette from her, lit it, then gave it back to her. Ritualistically, the girl inhaled, able to see straight now. "Arigato na." (Thanks.)

"Ima daijobu ka?" (Okay now?)

"Un," she nodded, blowing out a lengthy stream of smoke. Marie looked up at Serizawa, finding that the bright flowery shirt he wore to be really annoying. Where the hell does he get those things anyway? "Ne . . ." she said, lacking any other words to say at the moment. She was feeling extraordinarily awkward now. The memory of Serizawa Tamao holding onto her in such an intimate position replayed in her mind. "Kohi ga hoshii." (Hey. I want some coffee.) Without another word, she left the boy standing alone, walking over into the coffee shop.

Sighing heavily, Serizawa ambled back to his friends. His gaze fell to Tokaji, and his bloodied nose. He could have laughed at the moment, but didn't, figuring Tokaji's ego had been beat up enough that day. "Nani?" Tokaji asked, inwardly seething. (What?)

"Betsu ni, demo . . . Itai desu na." (Nothing, but . . .that must hurt.) For the rest of the day Tokaji was forced to suffer snide remarks and jokes about how a girl essentially kicked his ass. Of course that only made the entire ordeal ten times worse. This wasn't over, he decided, not by a long shot.

…..................................

**About a Week Later . . .**

Marie watched Aizawa-san (Ruka's Mother) fill a large paper bag full of miscellaneous vegetables. Though she had to walk over a kilometer to get to Aizawa's Produce, it was worth it for her. Not only was everything intensely fresh, but the prices were pretty cheap, too. And Aizawa-san always gave her a discount, which was perfect for someone like her who really didn't have that much money.

"Hai," Aizawa-san said, holding out the bag. (Here.)

"Arigato gozaimasu, Oba-san," Marie smilingly bowed her head a bit. "Ikura kakaru no?" (Thank you, Auntie. How much?"

"Daijobu yo," the elderly woman shook her, adding a delighted chuckle, "ato de shite." (It's okay, you can pay me later.)

Marie tilted her head to one side, thinking that the woman was behaving oddly. Aizawa-san had never just let her have anything for free. Shrugging it off, Marie said thank you again and left quietly. The walk home perturbed her deeply, well, not the walk exactly. It was more like the sounds, the smells, and everything else in between. She would catch the scent of cigarettes, the same brand that Bando smoked, or hear a motorcycle race by. Her head would turn, but it wouldn't be him.

It's not like she really wanted to go running back to jump off that same cliff again. Marie had grown attached, that was all. It had to be that. What sort of person wants to throw themselves into a situation where they knew they were going to get hurt. Well this is just great, she told herself, jumping over a particularly large puddle on the ground. That dour mood seemed to be coming back little by little. For a while she managed to forget, seeing as thoughts of throttling Tokaji Yuji were most prevalent.

Serves you right, you know? Her cheeky side of the brain was relentless when it came to insults. Yeah, I know, you don't have to remind me that I'm a fuck up every chance you get. But it's so fun. Quiet you. For once her brain decided to listen to the rational side. It shut up. You better believe that she could have went all night with this sort of argument. A roll of thunder resounded throughout the area menacingly. A few minutes later, the sky opened up with a passion, letting loose waves of water.

Damn it, Marie side stepped hurriedly in front of a closed down shop. It didn't offer much shelter, but it would have do for a while. The wind picked up, its howling seeming to echo her own sorrow. Setting down her bag of vegetables, the girl buttoned up her trench coat, trying to block out they iciness. Soon the shivers set in, making her ponder why she never remembered her umbrella on a day like this. Every time she did remember to bring it, it turned out to be a bright, warm day. Figures.

From her peripheral vision, she saw a figure step under the make shift shelter along with her. Wait a minute. I know him. Don't I? Or am I just imagining things?

"Mata ata na," Izaki Shun said, not once looking over at her. (You again, huh.)

"Oh, hai . . ." Damn what the hell was his name? Why do I have be such a space cadet when recalling names?

Izaki didn't know what made him walk over there. He had a perfectly good umbrella right there in his hand, and a jacket to keep out the chill. Yet there he was right along side her, watching the rain pound the cement and people rushing about to get inside. His face was a visage of brooding, an untouched olive piece of marble. Izaki was the epitome of disillusioned adolescents, representing an entire world of youths that didn't quite know where they were going. Against his will, turbulent brown eyes returned to Marie's form time and time again. It didn't matter, she didn't notice, or just didn't care.

Without warning, Marie turned to him, biting her lower lip restlessly. Izaki turned as well, his eyes instantly drawn into her. They shone pure Emerald, a colour of eyes he never knew existed. "Sumimasen ga," the girl sighed, bowing her head slightly, "namae ni wasuratetta." (Excuse me but, I don't remember your name.) Izaki was expressionless, then he looked down for a second, softly chuckling.

"Izaki."

"Ah!" She beamed, ashamed of the idiotic short term memory she had. "Gomen ne, Izaki-san." (I'm so sorry, Izaki.)

"Daijobu dayo," Izaki sort of shrugged, the perfect picture of apathy. (It's okay.) Now she was staring dreamily at the sky, as if she wished she was up there somewhere wrapped up in the clouds. With this profile view Izaki couldn't help but take in every detail. She wasn't beautiful, nothing in that classical sense that everybody seemed to cherish religiously. The fiery Irish blood that ran through her veins gave her wide hips and a tiny waist, a wasp like figure. Not fat, but not skinny, just healthy. The girl loved to eat, that was for sure. He stared for a while at the small mole on the side of her chin, a beauty mark that was most prominent and becoming to her round race. There was something gravely Gothic about Marie: adourned in black, naturally pale skin, and eyes always rimmed with Ebony eyeliner.

Before he could stop his mouth from running off, Izaki asked, "So nano – honto ni akage?" (Are you a real Red Head?) Now that was a familiar question for Marie McMiller. It seemed that on both sides of the world people were unconvinced that "Yes, Virginia, there are real Red Heads in the world."

Ever since she was little girl Marie endured the jokes and teasing, Carrot Top the most frequent thrown around adjective. What a drag . . .

"Eh? Mata sore?" (What? That again?)

"Shiritain da." (I just wanted to know.)

"So so," Marie sighed gently. (Yeah.) "Urghh!." Marie cried, frustration etched on her countenance. "Shigoto iku ga shitai." (I need to go to work.)

"Oh?" Izaki asked, surprised that Marie had a job at all. He really couldn't see her as a salary woman, a typical nine to five job. "Shigoto nani shitten no?" (What's your job?)

". . . komori." she told him , "Honto ni osoi na!" Marie lowered her head, angry at the bipolar weather of Japan. If it wasn't for the rain and the forgetting of an umbrella, she'd be sitting inside, warm and happy. "Kono baka mitai!!" (Babysitting. I'm so late! This is stupid!)

"Hai," Izaki broke into her little rant, offering her his umbrella. (Here.) She looked at it, then at him with a peculiar expression on her face. Marie wanted to say, what are playing at, but she couldn't quite get the words out.

"Nani?" she asked instead, feeling uneasy. (What?)

"Dozo," he shook the umbrella for emphasis. (Please take it.)

"Demo . . ." she began, but he was swift to cut her off. (But . . .)

"Honto ni iranai." (I really don't need it.) Slowly, Marie took the umbrella from him, continuing to ponder what he was up to. Then, he almost offered a smile again, but walked away into the rain before she could even say thank you. Heaving a great lamenting sigh, she looked at the bright Red watch on her wrist. With a shrug, she lifted the umbrella over her body, picked up her bag of vegetables,stepped out of the make shift shelter, then made the long trek back to her apartment complex.

…....................................................

***Author's Note***

**Notice that Serizawa Tamao is now referred to as just Tamao. Using His first name is very intimate, so have fun trying to pick up on how Marie and Tamao interact now. :D**

Serizawa Tamao unlocked the door to his home, yawning widely. As he walked in he came across the sight of Marie McMiller playing chess with his little Brother. Serizawa Nobutaro (Nobu for short) was so unlike the rest of the Serizawa clan. To make a long story short, the kid was a genius. He excelled in every subject in school, and was speedily learning English and French on his own. Seeing the two people sprawled on the floor, deep in thought over the game, Tamao decided he never wanted Nobu to see the likes of Suzuran. But being an impoverished family, it was more like than not that he would end of going to that damnable high school.

"Ne, Tamao," Marie rolled over from her stomach to her back to look up at King of Beasts, "Ototo-san honto kashikoi!" (Your little brother is so clever!)

"Sore shitteru." (I know that.) Tamao half smiled as he walked over to sit on the couch.

"Okke, jubun, Nobu-kun," Marie told the little boy. (Okay, enough for now.)

"Aww . . ." Nobu pouted, only serving to make him look even cuter. "Beddo ikitakunai." (I don't wanna' go to bed.)

"Ie," she said firmly, not giving in to any of it, "anata ni yaranakucha." (Nope, you have to.)

"Okaaayyyy, I guess so," Nobu whined, trying out a little English just for the hell of it. He leaped to his feet, trotting off to the room he shared with his older brother. "Oyasumi!" (Good night!) The ten year old boy called over his shoulder, then went into the room closing the door behind him.

"Aww, cho kawaii." (He's really cute.) Marie said, then began picking up after the mess they had made with the chess set and snacks. She went about straightening up the cramped apartment, not giving Tamao much attention at all. Tamao however watched her closely. All of her actions and movements were precise and exact. That was an odd thing about the girl: she cleaned like a hyena on crack. Her own apartment was completely spotless, everything gleaming with cleanliness.

"Ni-chan daisuki da." Tamao announced, lighting up a cigarette. (My brother really loves you.)

Marie laughed good-naturedly as she walked into the kitchen, carrying empty cups of instant Ramen. The sound of running water wafted into the living room. She's doing dishes, Tamao surmised. He stood up from the couch, deciding to join the girl. Leisurely, he leaned against door frame, crossing his arms across his chest. Still watching her go through the motions of cleaning, Tamao faintly smiled.

Sensing that she was being watched, Marie turned her head to look over her shoulder. Hands submerged in water, she asked, "Ne, Tamao, nanka tabetai?" (Hey, Tamao, do you want something to eat?)

"Ie, kekko." (No thanks.)

She nodded, proceeding to turn her attention back to the dirty dishes. Minutes later all the dishes were washed, rinsed, and now sitting in a dish drainer to dry. The only thought that entered his mind at that moment was, "She'd make a good wife." A sudden image of Marie wearing a risque French Maid's outfit popped up. Finding that deliriously funny, Tamao couldn't help but let out a loud guffaw.

"Eh?" Marie turned around to face him, drying her hands on a dish towel. (What?)

"Uh . . ." Tamao nearly blanched as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "betsu ni." (Nothing) His face swiftly turned placid, hiding those precious musings from the outside world. Hastily, he tried to will those thoughts away. Marie peered at the boy peculiarly. For the most part she really didn't hear Tamao laugh.

"Ja . . .ima inkanakucha to omou." (Well . . . I guess I'll go now.

"Un," yet he continued to stand in the doorway, blocking her way out.

Marie didn't think much of it, so she walked toward him, thinking he would move out of her way. Even when they were only inches apart, Tamao refused to move. His crossed arms came down off his chest in one deft movement. This forced Marie to look up to come somewhat face to face with him Just what the hell does he think he's doing? Slowly, he reached out with a hand, his face moving dangerously close to hers. Oh, she thought, is he going to . . . Without hesitation, his hand altered its course slightly, brushing the top of her head. "Sekken," was all he said, defining his actions. (Soap.)

Then, he backed away from her, flicking the suds off his fingers to the floor. Her mouth damn near dropped to her feet. Somehow she felt disappointed and relieved at the same time. All of those conflicting emotions soon were washed away, replaced with ire. Tamao was grinning ear to ear, clarifying that he purposely did such a thing. Her lips pursed into a thin line, jaw twitching. "Ome kasetto ningen jan, sore shitteru no?" (You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?) Marie hissed lowly, not wanting Nobu or the neighbours to hear.

"Nani?" Tamao continued to grin devilishly, "So nano . . . kisu shite hoshii no?" (What? Did you . . . want me to kiss you or something?)

"Kitinai wane," Marie mumbled, roughly shoving her shoulder into his body to push past him. (You're a dirt bag.) As she slipped past him, he instinctively struck out a hand, grabbing hold of a fine, pallid wrist. He swung her around to face him, his grip tight and demanding. Jerking her arm in protest, Marie attempted to get away from him. It was futile, Tamao was not relenting an inch. He searched her face for some sort of explanation as to why she had gotten all puffed up over something so trivial, but there was nothing there. "Yamare yo," she whispered, "Itai wane." (Stop it, that hurts.)

At those words, he released his hold on her. Marie rubbed her wrist, maintaining eye contact the entire time. "What?" she took a few careful steps backwards, absentmindedly slipping back into her native tongue.

"Do iu imi?" (What do you mean?)

In response, she held up her wrist, shaking it a little to show him how much it had actually hurt. A pale pink outline of some of his fingers remained upon her skin, glaring viciously. He took a few steps forward, gently grabbing hold of her wrist. "Gomen." (Sorry.)

Standing in the midst of the apartment, both became deafened by the silence. You could have heard a pin drop for the awkward stillness. He had never once thought of kissing her – until now that is. For the past couple of weeks Tamao couldn't help but notice that she didn't smile as much as she used to, and the witty quips just weren't there. She hadn't even said anything about all those flowery print shirts that he wore all the time. Yep, something definitely was wrong.

"Gomen nassai," Tamao told her again, his voice a silken whisper. (I'm sorry.) Then - his face was moving again, and like before his actions nailed her to the ground, unable to move and inch.

Unexpectedly, the front door swung open, causing the two teens to jump apart. "Minna ni konebawa!" (Good evening everyone!) They hadn't even heard Serizawa-san (Tamao's Mother) unlocking the door. No other words were uttered, Marie simply made a bee line to the exit. She grabbed her shoes by the door, bowed airily to Serizawa-san, then was gone in a matter of seconds. Tamao turned his back to his Mother, hiding the warmth and confusion on his face. Was I really going to . . .

Picking up on some unrequited vibes, Serizawa-san asked, "Eh? Nanka ata no?"(What? Did I miss something?)


	3. Chapter 2 POINT 2 Kisu Shite Hoshii

**Chapter **

**Kisu Shite Hoshii**

"Ahh! . . . " Natsuo Kyoko gasped, pulling on the back of Marie's apron. Marie stumbled a bit, annoyed at her friend's perkiness. How the hell could one girl hold that much cheer when they were working probably the most menial job in existence after a grueling day at school. Being a waitress and a poor student blew – big time. Kyoko attended the same music school that Marie and Ruka did and actually played the Violin magnificently.

It was a Monday evening and the cafe was moving at an exceptionally snail like pace. Bells above the door had just chimed, letting the two girls know that there was a customer. Marie and Kyoko were behind the counter filling napkin dispensers, salt and pepper shakers, and in general just trying to look busy. The Red Headed girl casually glanced in the direction where Kyoko's eyes were eagerly trained. "Ah," Marie shrugged coolly, "Izaki-san."

"What?!" Kyoko hissed, murderously, pulling Marie around so Izaki couldn't see their faces. "You know that guy?!"

Jerking her arm away from the death like grip that Kyoko had on her arm, Marie mischievously replied, "Maybe I do, maybe I don't."

"You – you . . . wench!" spluttered Kyoko, glaring. Marie laughed, then shook her head at Kyoko's antics. The girl was just too high strung when it came to boys. "Tell me, are you friends with him or something?"

"Hmm," Marie pondered, leaning back on the counter, "I can't say for sure."

Kyoko turned back around, pretending to wipe the counter with a white towel. Marie kept her back to Izaki, not really wanting to acknowledge anyone. The events of the other night with Tamao didn't exactly lay heavily on her mind, but they did make a casual appearance from time to time. She summed it up to sleep deprivation and not having anything better to do. But it's kind of hard to lie to yourself.

"He's staring at you, you know?" Kyoko giggled.

"So? My hair looks like a fucking fried tomato, everybody stares."

"He's kind of sexy, don't you think?"

"No," Marie told her truthfully, the thought had never even crossed her mind. "Not particularly. You're just going all fan girl on his ass because he and Genji saved you and Ruka a few months ago."

"Yeah . . ." Kyoko sighed dreamily, imagining Izaki Shun in total Samurai attire. The equivalent to a knight-in-shining-armor on a regal White Horse swooping in to save the day for Kyoko.

"Hey, space cadet!" Marie rapped on Kyoko's temple to get her attention. "I'm talking here."

"Eh? Really? You were?"

"Bitch."

"Whore." Kyoko and Marie's usual conversations ended up in throwing around childish insults, so this was nothing out of the ordinary. "Well?" Natsuo Kyoko prompted.

"Well, what?"

"Are you going over there?"

" . . ." Marie blinked dumbly, thinking about it for a second, "No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to."

"He's still staring," the taller girl grinned from ear to ear, thoroughly entertained by Marie not even wanting to look at Izaki. She figured the girl probably _did _think he was sexy, but was too proud to say anything about it. That or Marie really was _that _antisocial. Marie rolled her eyes at the look on Kyoko's cute face, then threw up her hands out of frustration.

"All right, I'll go wait on him, you lazy slag. Just stop gawking like a retard." She walked off before Kyoko could even think of a come back to that one.

"Domo." (Hi.) Marie greeted him in a dull monotone. His eyes glanced up at her for a split second, then back down. Izaki had known from the moment he walked into the cafe that the flaming head shuffling around was Marie. Finding out that she was a babysitter was plausible, but a waitress, too? It kind of made him think differently about her, knowing that she held two jobs.

"Domo," he mumble in reply. (Hi.)

"Nanka nomitai?" (Do you want something to drink?)

"Kohi tsuki no gyunyu onegai shimasu." (Bring me coffee with milk, please.)

"Hai, sugu dakara." (Sure, it'll only take a minute.)

Ambling back to the counter, Marie ignored the self-satisfied smile that Kyoko was giving her. She went about fixing a cup of coffee ritualistically. As she passed by Kyoko to bring Izaki his coffee, she gave her a playful poke in the ribs making the girl jump. Setting the cup in front of Izaki Shun, she felt it her duty to tell him, "Koko no kohi imaichi dayo." (The coffee here sucks.) Izaki gave her an impassive look, either he didn't care, or was too cheap to shill out the money for a decent cup of coffee.

Marie smiled softly, thinking that even if the coffee here was half ass, the food wasn't. She was one of the cooks after all.

"Nanka tabetai?" (Want something to eat?)

"Do demo ii yo," he drank some of his coffee deciding, that yes, it really did suck. None the less, he continued to down the caffeine infused beverage. (I don't care, anything's okay.) Then he added as an after thought, "Sashimi ja nakute." (Just not Sashimi.) Marie erupted in insane cackles, which made Kyoko grin even broader: she loved knowing she was right. ***Note: Sashimi is thinly sliced Fish or Seafood***

"Hai, hai, hai." (Yeah, yeah, okay.)

Marie trotted off to the kitchen, having no idea what to bring someone who was so blasé about everything. If he spoke any less, she'd think he couldn't speak at all. She wondered if he purposely did it to try and be cool, or if that really was his disposition. "Well?" Kyoko asked. The greedy look of some juicy gossip was alight in her warm chocolate eyes. Her incessant, deeply rooted American colloquialisms aside, Marie simply told her friend, "He doesn't like Sashimi."

"You're kidding me!" she sounded really disappointed. What did she expect – some sort of soul bearing experience in a two minute conversation? "Who hell does like Sashimi. Etchi!" (Gross!)

Marie didn't even bother responding to that one, continuing to go about fixing the first dish that popped into her head. About half an hour later she came out of the kitchen with a fresh cup of "crappy" coffee and a bowl of steaming soup on a tray. When she laid it down on the table for Izaki, he merely eyed it warily. Looking up to her, he inquired, "Nante iu no?" (What is it?)

"Nanda to omou," she grinned gleefully, rather proud of the Garlic soup she had just made. (Guess what it is.)

"Hn," was all he said before picking up a spoon and trying some. Marie looked down on him, for the first time really noticing that his hair was Blonde. She had funny image of him walking down the aisle of a store having a hard time deciding on which brand of Blonde he should get. Hmm . . . Herbal Essence, or Nutrisse, no, no, no, this won't due, my hair's too pretty for . . .

"Nani?" he asked, breaking into her musings. (What?) Instantly, her face flushed, embarrassed that she had been caught daydreaming about him and his hair product choices. Izaki peered up at her, confounded at that huge grin she had been wearing.

"Uh . . . betsu ni," Marie tittered nervously, then quickly changed subject. "Kore oishii?" (Uh . . . nothing. Is it delicious?) Izaki took another sip of the soup, allowing the flavour to settle on his taste buds.

"Un." He continued to eat in silence, never glancing back up at her. Well, that was disappointing. Damn brooding James Dean types, she thought, inner-Marie shaking a fist. If she could, she'd pull out some anger veins and stick them a top her forehead. Knowing that the conversation was completely dead now, Marie walked away quickly back to the kitchen. The girl refrained from stomping out her irritation along the way.

Once back in the kitchen, she thought to herself with a new determination, I'll show him. And then she started in on another original concoction. Dessert. Marie didn't think herself much of cook, not really, but when it came to desserts, she thought she was a god. Cooking had always been a huge stress reliever; whenever she was feeling blue. She would either cook or go ape-shit with cleaning. If the Garlic Soup she had just made didn't impress him, the next course sure was going to . . .

**Fifteen Minutes Later . . . **

Once more Marie burst out of the double doors to the kitchen, balancing a tray on one arm this time. She laid it in front of Izaki, daring him with her eyes to not enjoy this one. He seemed a tad bit surprised at another course, but kept his thoughts to himself. "Dezato?" he asked, trying to ascertain just exactly what the damn thing was. (Dessert?) She nodded once, one side of her mouth twitching in a half smirk. Then, she took his empty bowl, hurriedly going back to the kitchen.

Izaki continued to stare at the dessert on the plate: two Vanilla cookies with a thick layer of Ginger Ice Cream and whipped cream between them. Not being able to help herself, Marie stood on the tip of her toes, straining to spy on the boy as he ate. Now that was just a little creepy . . . Kyoko soon joined her, finding the curiosity irresistible.

"Damn it," Marie whispered, attempting to get a better look, "I can't stand like this forever. Hurry up and taste the bloody thing! I spent all morning baking those cookies!"

"Oh!" Kyoko whispered back, "I think he smiled."

"What? Where? When?!"

"Or maybe that was a frown, I can't really tell."

"Oh, just shut your gob and move your fat ass over!" Marie knocked her out of the way with one hip, then pushed her way through the doors. Making another cup of coffee quickly, she found another excuse to go back to his booth. She took a hidden pleasure at seeing that there was nothing left on his plate. Ha ha, she giggled inwardly, he liked it, he liked it, he liked it – take that James Dean!

"Suwaranai?" Izaki asked, motioning a hand toward the seat across from him. (Do you want to sit down?) Marie's mouth opened and closed, no words able to make it past her lips. That was unexpected. Her eyes shifted toward the kitchen, sure Kyoko was still watching. In spite of that, the girl slid into the booth, never quite able to touch upon Izaki's shadowy, calculating eyes. Mostly because she couldn't think of anything to say. But if Izaki really wanted her company, then she would oblige him.

He was gazing out the window now, watching random people rush to and fro. He hadn't really meant to ask her to sit down, yet the words flew out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Izaki couldn't even begin to understand why his mouth seemed intent on blurting out things around her. At the moment he was at a total loss for words. If Marie thought she lacked complete social skills, Izaki Shun most definitely had her beat by a mile. At least when it came to girls that is. The boy had never even chatted a girl up before, or anything remotely having to do with those sorts of things. Not that he was necessarily chatting up _this _particular girl . . .

Izaki now held a profound respect for Marie. Having witnessed Marie beat the crap out of Tokaji Yuji was something not so easily forgotten. Agilely, Izaki turned his head from the window to look at her. Simultaneously they had decided to speak, running over each others words. Gracelessly, Marie laughed, running a hand through chaotic, spiky hair. Hell, awkward wouldn't even begin to describe the kind of feeling in the air. It was just plain painful.

"Dozo," he told her, inviting her to speak first. (Please.)

"Ie, saki ni dozo." (No, after you.)

Never the type of girl to know just what exactly was going on in a boy's head, Marie imagined it had a lot to do with sports and boobs though. And not necessarily in that order. All she could discern from this boy was that he quite possibly had the deepest, most complicated eyes she had ever beheld. Realizing that he wasn't going to speak, she asked, pointing at his face, "Nanka ata no? Oe suru hodo busu dayo." (What happened? You look like shit.)

"Eh?" Okay, so now he was confused.

"Anata no kao . . ." Marie touched her own face in the same spot where he was bruised, then gave him a smug look, "dasai desu." (Your face . . . it's ugly.) If he hadn't been so stunned at her choice of words, Izaki would have remembered to gape. Half the time he thought she didn't even know what the hell she was saying, as if her inner monologue refused to _stay_ inner. How annoying . . . "Honto ni dabokushokute tokirikuzu desu." (It's really bruised and cut up.)

"Ah," one hand self-consciously fingered a particular vicious looking slash on his face. Izaki had forgotten about all of that. The other day he gotten tangled up with some random punks looking for some payback. Needless to say Izaki didn't look like he'd come out the better. That fact ate him up inside, so he changed the subject quickly. "Itsumo nani shitten no?" (Yeah. What do you in your free time?)

"Sen mon gakkosei," Marie answered automatically, rolling over the fact that he had not answered her question. She really wasn't that interested enough to push the subject any further. (I go to a special school.)

"Nani benkyo shitteru no?" (What are you studying?)

Raising a fine, Scarlet eyebrow at him, Marie wondered if he was making small talk out of perpetual boredom, or could one guy really be this droll? Stupid, Izaki scolded himself, even I know that's lame, why don't I just ask her favourite colour or something. Idiot.

"Ongaku." (Music.)

"So nano?" (Oh, yeah?)

A crashing boom of thunder interrupted any further conversation. Both teens turned their heads to gaze longingly out the window. Some seconds later the sky opened with yet another furious downpour, pelting the glass window with force. It reminded the girl that she still had his umbrella. Actually, ever since he had lent it to her the other day she had carried it around everywhere. The thought of giving it back to him_ did _cross her mind, but in the end she decided not to – unless he asked. They spent quite a while sitting in the booth, not really saying much of anything. The rain was so beauteous, that words would only dampen its splendor.

…...............................................

Looking back on both encounters he had with Marie in less than a week, Izaki decided that yes – he was an idiot. Asking if she was a real Redhead could have probably earned him a black eye on any other day of the week, but it didn't. She must have been in a really good mood that day. Then there was the entire awkwardness of asking her to sit down and having nothing to say. Lame. In truth, he kind of regretted not telling how good her cooking actually was. Double lame.

Why? Why, was what Izaki Shun had been asking himself a lot lately. Why was it he either asked about inane subjects, or didn't speak at all when he came face to face with Marie? As perplexing a that was, the vision of waxen skin and dark Emerald eyes kept making a frequent appearance in his daydreams. Fuck that shit! It's not like he'd ever go after anything Bando Hideto ever had his hands on.

"Ome," Takiya Genji blew out a stream of smoke from his nose, "nani kagaeten no?" (Yo, what're you thinking about?) Genji turned around from the metal fence he had been holding onto to look at Izaki. The view atop Suzuran truly was breath taking: you could see far and wide way out into the city. Being on top only made it all the better.

"Eh?" Izaki met his friend's gaze steadily. ". . . nani mo." (Huh? . . . Nothing.)

"Kanwaku shiteiru mitai." (You look distracted.)

"Iya, betsu ni." (No, it's nothing really.) Izaki flicked his cigarette down to the ground below, watching it as it landed in a puddle of water. Genji studied his counterpart's face subtly. It wasn't unusual for Izaki to surround himself with stoney silence, but there was something else drawn there other than apathy. "Ja ne," and Izaki was walking away from the roof top before Genji could even reply. (See ya'.)

Although Suzuran (most of it anyway) was consolidated, there was still a line drawn between Genji's army (GPS) and Serizawa's army. This meant that yes, they were all loyal to Takiya Genji, but actually all of them hanging together would be stretching it a bit. Imagine if they were all to go to the movies, utter chaos would ensue. More often than not you could find Genji and Izaki hanging out together, like you would with Makise and Chuta, or Tokio and Tamao. Each of the Mikami Brothers (Go and Manabu) had opted for either Tsutsumoto Shoji or Tokaji Yuji as a friend.

Then there Rinda-man, called a boy but was more like a semi truck. It sure as hell felt like a semi had run over you if he clocked you one. Genji had the bruises for proof of that. The ongoing war between Genji and Rinda-man almost seemed like it would never end. Sure, Genji was able to get in a few good hits here and there, but not enough to deem him the victor. Conquering Suzuran was still out of reach – still just a dream.

But sometimes Genji's dreams turned soft and sweet. They would fill with a honeyed voice, a silken touch, and Brown eyes that stretched on forever. Aizawa Ruka could fill his head like water quenching a dehydrated man's thirst. Love and romance were not the most prominent things on his mind, but they were there. Smiling and laughing, Ruka would come to him, giving him a new reverie; he saved those dreams just for himself.

…......................................

Serizawa Tamao had been avoiding Marie McMiller for almost a week now. That proved to be a bit more difficult than he had initially thought. Living next door to one another could be a real pain sometimes. You could still find Serizawa's Army at their usual lair, smoking, drinking, and plotting. Plotting was a favourite past time of theirs, you know. Today though – today was reserved for Mahjong.

Everyone that came into to Club S had gone to Suzuran at one time or another, there wasn't an unfamiliar face to be seen. Even before Serizawa's Army had assimilated into GPS, this was a Suzuran hang out. Tamao would never openly admit it, but His loss still burned like hot, Blue embers on an open fire. He was a very loyal person, though, and would remain loyal to Takiya Genji until he drew his last breath. Because like Genji, Tamao had dreams, too.

He didn't just want something better for himself, but for his Mother who worked two jobs until her hands bled, and for his younger Brother. Growing up poor made you tough, but it also made you just a little bitter. Bitter toward the rich, hatred for those who frivolously wasted money, and true anger toward anyone who dared look down their nose at you. Being forced to concede to Genji was just another stepping stone on the path to another world, the Underworld. This dark place, filled with mystique and lethalness. Yakuza, of course.

Now don't misunderstand a boy like Serizawa Tamao . . . he didn't use people and in return didn't like to be used. Nor did he kowtow to anyone, so going around kissing Genji's ass wouldn't be happening anytime soon. Ever. The door to the club unceremoniously flew open, slamming into the wall. If Tamao had been anyone else, his mouth would have hung open in mid air, floored at who strolled in oh-so-casually as if they owned the damned place. Marie – yeah, that figures.

But he wasn't just anyone else, so his face remained expressionless, concealing what he was really thinking and feeling. Tokaji Yuji on the other hand was more translucent than that. He held onto the edge of the table they were sitting at, knuckles turning white from such a tight grip. Mikami Manabu and Tsutsumoto Shoji seemed rather intrigued at her unannounced visit, but baffled as well.

The game they had been playing came to an abrupt halt. Damn her, Tamao thought, I was winning too, then he looked down at the board game, pretending he hadn't seen her. Marie sashayed her way through the club, weaving in and out of tables filled with miscellaneous Suzuran students. Hell must have been serving an awful lot of ice water that day: a female actually stepping one foot into Club S was unheard of. The proof of that stopped directly beside Tamao, ignoring the three other boys at the table. "Hisashiburi ne." (Long time no see, huh?)

Tamao absorbed himself in the tiles he had laid out in front of him, feeling her eyes burn a hole into the top of his head. Damn, he cursed again. Speedily, Marie struck out hand, grabbing one of his Mahjong tiles. She studied it momentarily, then connected it to the other pieces laying on the table. Pulling another tile from the pile, Marie glanced at it, then down at Tamao's previously pulled pieces.

"Ha!" she grinned triumphantly, sitting down the little character next to the others. "Ryuiso." (All Green; only Green Dragons.) All of them looked over toward Tamao's Mahjong pieces, just wanting to be sure. All Green was a rare hand to pull, and Tamao had been the one to teach her how to play, so it wasn't unthinkable that she was cheating.

"Saiko kakkoi," Manabu commented, nodding appreciatively. (Very smooth.)

"Atarimae dessho," she smiled with arrogant mirth, then motioned with a hand, "chotto ii." (That goes with out saying. Scoot over.)

Tsutsumoto and Manabu immediately shuffled around, making room for her. Tokaji and Tamao however refused to budge a centimeter. Tokaji finally released his hold from the table, some of his ire filled vision returning to normal. "Nanka monku aru no?" (What the hell do you want?)

"Majan, Tokaji," Marie pulled an empty chair away from another table, sliding it to theirs next to Tamao. "Mochiron." (To play, Tokaji. Of course.) Tokaji's eyes could have incinerated the girl on the spot, if she had even graced him with acknowledgment.

"Kore owatta," Tokaji slid his chair back from the table, striding off to the bar where Tokio and Mikami Go were. (I'm done with this.) Marie half expected boy to go sulk and complain to them. Shrugging it off, everyone flipped over the tiles, shuffling them for a new game. Tamao looked on placidly, silently rejecting the idea of playing with _Her. _

Marie pulled fourteen tiles from the ones on the table, child like delight on her face. "Ome," she elbowed Tamao roughly, tired of being ignored, "baka yatten ja neyo." (Hey, cut the crap) Then she addressed the others, "Ja yaro." (Let's begin.) 

**A Little While Later . . .**

"Ne-ne, Tamao . . ." Marie drawled lazily, but he didn't look up from his Mahjong pieces. "Ne – ne – ne!"(Say, Tamao . . . Hey – hey – hey!) A random tile flew from her hand, hitting him squarely in the forehead. Only then did he grace her with his attention. Throughout this entire lengthy game, Serizawa Tamao sullenly lamented over the fact that he was losing – big time.

A staring contest began between boy and girl, both too proud to back down from any kind of challenge. Even if it was an immature one. The other occupants of the table quickly realized that this just wasn't Tamao being a hard headed, sore loser, or Marie being a pushy, loud mouth. No, whatever was going on between those two ran much deeper than conflicting personalities. The air hung thick with a humid hostility . . . One after the other, Tsutsumoto and Manabu stood up, walked away, and joined Tokio, Go, and Tokaji.

"Hanaso ga shitai," Marie finally told him, forgetting the game entirely. (I need to talk to you.)

"Eh?" (Huh?) Tamao rolled a game piece between his fingers, feigning idiocy. Marie altered from watching his hand and face, tired of him being a complete jack ass. Really, she thought, and I thought I was the one who held grudges forever. Just what the bloody hell happened that warranted a grudge anyway. Slowly, she reached across the table, laying her hand over his to stop him from playing with the Mahjong tile.

"Tamao, onegai shimasu. Ne?" (Please, Tamao. Okay?) One look into her eyes and it was over for him. He relented of course, how could he not when she looked so damned serious.

"Okke," he sighed, standing up, "okute iku yo." (Okay, I'll take you home.)

…...............................................

It had started raining on their way home, so the pair opted to have "that talk" in Marie's apartment. Yet the words that she had practiced saying in the mirror that morning didn't want to come out at the moment. So, she merely sat at her kitchen table across from Tamao, looking out the window as if something incredibly interesting was happening outside. He was sort of glad: most of the time she didn't know when to stop her babbling.

Moving her chin to rest on her hand, Marie sighed wearily. Why was this so hard now? Okay, breathe, she told herself again and again, just breathe. All he can do is say no. Or laugh at you, I would. I don't need any comments from the peanut gallery. The peanut gallery is you, imbecile. Are you sure you're not a blonde?

"Daijobu?" Tamao asked, startling her back into reality. (You okay?) The inner arguments she tended to have from time to time left an agonized look upon her round countenance. Anyone watching while she was going ape-shit would think she had just stubbed all her toes on some inanimate object.

"Ah, genki dayo," Marie tittered like an airhead, waving a hand in the air nonchalantly. (Yeah, I'm fine.) She felt her face flush hotly, but forced herself to continue with the monologue she had prepared. "Genki datta?" (How's it going?)

Tamao frowned deeply, finding her pleasantries to be bizarre. Her "crazy foreigner" routine was just that: a routine. In all actuality Marie was probably one of the most sanest people he had ever met. That being noted, he told her, "Baka yattena yo. Nanka ite." (Quit being stupid. Just say something.)

"Er . . . ja . . . deto ga shitai." (Er . . . well . . . I need a date.)

Did she just ask me out, he blinked numbly, unable to believe his own ears. Just what the hell was going on behind those vibrant eyes of hers? Was she joking? Was she serious? Or did she really want to go out with him? "Mo ikkai ite?" (Come again?) Ughh, she groaned inwardly, completely mortified by this time. It hurt her pride having to beg Serizawa Tamao for a date. Really, really hurt.

"Gakko no tame ni desu." (It's for my school.) Oh. Well. That cleared things up immensely. But Tamao couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed. "Seiso parti." (A formal party.)

"Ah, sokka." (I see.) But he didn't see – couldn't see how much Marie really didn't want to go to the stupid thing. It was mandatory, some of sort first semester ending ceremony. As if graduation wasn't bad enough with it just around the corner, there were loads of functions and ceremonies in between. Stupid, high-nosed bitches, she thought, they think it's some kind of reward having a full paid weekend trip to Kyoto. What they don't tell you is that you have to sit through hours of boring speeches, bad music, and drunken dancing.

In reality, Marie was somewhat depressed at not having anyone to go with. A few boys from her school had actually worked up the nerve to ask her, but she had gracefully declined. And Marie's standards of graceful were more along the lines of blinking idiotically, mumbling no thanks, then hurrying off to her hiding spot. Now she was kicking herself for not grinning and bearing it.

Ruka had all ready asked Genji, and as expected he agreed. Ahh, young love in full blossom . . . Briefly her thoughts wandered toward Bando . . . what was he up to now? Was he sad? I doubt it. Did he miss her? Missing the sex was probably more likely. It's not like she would have ever asked him to go with her anyway. She doubted Bando Hideto even knew what formal wear was. Hell, Marie wondered if Tamao did.

" . . . warui kedo dame da," Tamao's voice sliced through the air like a warm knife through butter. (Sorry, I can't do it.)

"Eh?!!!" the girl proclaimed, the blush dying down on her face. That irked her beyond on belief. "Nande dame nan dayo?!" (Why the hell not?!)

"Seiso parti, daro?" (A formal party, right?) Tamao leaned across the table, a sly smirk slowly appearing on his lips, "Sutsu motte imasen." (I don't have a suit.)

"Oh," her tempestuous Irish fury ebbed, "so nano?" (Oh, is that right?) Marie leaned across the table as well, folding her hands together in front of her. With a jerk, Tamao sat back in his seat, almost regretting saying anything at all. The evil look written all over her face were enough words to say it all.

"Ikkenne . . . " Tamao whispered to himself, having a bad feeling about this. (Oh shit . . .)

Jugatsu Junananichi, Toshogu Aki Matsuri

October 17, Autumn Festival of Toshogu

**Extra Scene**

"Ne! Ne!" Marie jumped up and down gleefully on a bed. It shook with each hop, waking the figure curled underneath the bedding.. (Hey! Hey!)

"Nani teme?!!!" Tokaji Yuji yelled, ripping the covers off his head. (Who the hell do you think you are?!!!) He sat straight up in his bed, eyes as wide as saucers as he saw Marie McMiller having the time of her life. On His bed no less. Abruptly she stopped moving, crouching down to peer closely into his face.

"Tokaji-kun!" she flicked him harshly on the forehead. He slapped her hand away viciously, then shoved her backwards.

"Shine, yariman . . ." Tokaji groaned, pulling the blankets back onto his head. (Go to hell, whore . . .) Marie flung the covers off of him, laughing like a mad woman.

"Hahaha, Chinchin chiisai, chinchin chiisai, chinchin chiisai! Tokaji wa hine daikon motte imasu!" The girl chanted in a sing-song voice, then proceeded to start jumping up and down again. (Your dick is small, your dick is small, your dick is small! Tokaji has a tiny pee-pee!) He gaped furiously, praying that she would fall off the bed, break her neck, then spend the rest of eternity in hell. No such luck, instead . . .

Tokaji Yuji bolted upright in his bed, out of breath and scared shitless. A dream , a dream, only – a – dream. . . . A nightmare was more like it. What the hell? He couldn't get away from her in real life, and now she was invading his dreams, too? Again – what the hell? "Ughh . . ." he moaned pitifully, then added for good measure, "nanda kono kuso onna . . ." (What a bitch . . .)

**Author's Note & Miscellaneous Crapola**

**I didn't realize how long each chapter was when writing it in my notebook, so I had to split the chapters into sections. Hopefully you enjoyed Chapter 2.2, because I enjoyed writing it! Now, you see that little button at the bottom of this page? Move your mouse cursor over the damn review button and tell me what you think. :D I'm open to suggestions and ideas, and of course any criticism as well. But please do not send flames, I will whip out my fire extinguisher for those nasty little imps. **

**Back to it . . .**

**Kisu Shite Hoshii is yet another Blue Hearts song, a nice one that you can Pogo to (the official Punk Dance.) I'm entitling every chapter with a Blue Hearts song, so be on the look out. **

**Initially when I started this story, I was making it a strictly Marie McMiller/Izaki Shun Romance/Comedy/Drama. Bando Hideto was always meant to be her ex-boyfriend, that was a given because I took a great liking to Bando when I first saw Crows Zero. Then, as I continued to write, Serizawa Tamao and Marie suddenly became a little more than friends. But, don't worry more of Izaki's clumsiness around Marie, and Marie's social ineptness around Him are on the way! Izaki's just so delicious, I could eat him for lunch. Lol! On a another note, it's taking me longer than I expected typing this story up from my notebook, but I'm trying. Stay with me people and keep reading. From the bottom of my heart, I love you all!!!**

**Hine Daikon literally means "Shriveled Radish." When Marie tells Tokaji, "Tokaji wa hine daikon motte imasu" well, let's just say it's a very serious insult. :D I'm not sure if I should more scenes where Tokaji and Marie mix it up, so tell me what you think. I mean come on, why should the boys get to have all the fun, right? **


	4. Chapter 3 Bakudan Ga Okkochiru Toki

**Chapter III.I**

**Bakudan Ga Okkochiru Toki**

**(When the Bombs Fall.)**

"If my ass gets any fatter . . ." Marie bemoaned from her bedroom while staring into an ancient, full length mirror, "it's going to start eating the rest of my body." Ruka rolled her eyes from the living room, amused at Marie's whining. The entire day she spent complaining about the school ceremony they had to go to and having to wear a "bloody" dress. At the moment, Marie was wearing one of the only two dresses she owned. A vivid Red one piece that came down just past her knees. Her other dress (black) was reserved for funerals only. A typical tom boy to the core.

The girl really wasn't fat like she liked to say here and there, her toned legs were walking proof of that. Marie who was Irish to the core succumbed to many a beer and potato. When it came to food, she tried to eat healthy – more or less. Being a vegetarian made that kind of easy. But whatever good came out of only eating vegetables and Tofu was canceled out by the addiction to cigarettes and coffee. She'd live on those if she could.

Sticking her tongue out at the mirror, Marie ripped off the dress, tossing it to the floor. Quickly she slipped on her old, beaten up Strummer Lives tee and a pair of black legging like pants. It was no use, she just didn't feel right about wearing a dress. Walking into the living room, she found Ruka laying on her couch, idly flipping through a music magazine. Ruka watched her friend as she moped about, finally plopping into a reclining chair.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" Marie lit a Vanilla cigarette, puffing away like there was no tomorrow.

"You're gonna' make me twist your arm, huh?" Ruka shook her head, a bemused smile upon her face. "Serizawa-san – what did he say?"

"Oh, him . . ."

"Yes, him. You know, the guy that lives next door to you, that always looks like he wants to eat you, or slap you silly."

"Shut up," Marie mumbled, crossing her arms stubbornly, "he does not. If anyone wants to eat someone, it's you."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Oh, I don't know . . ." the Red Head trailed off whimsically, thinking of how Ruka always became starry eyed when Takiya Genji came around. Marie crossed one leg over the other, smirking in Ruka's general direction. The taller girl smoothed down a lock of hair, looking kind of bashful for a moment. Not that she needs to primp like that, Marie thought, she's beautiful no matter what time of day it is. "Yes," Marie finally said, "Tamao is going."

"Ha! Like he'd have the nerve to say no to you. If he had, you probably would have bloodied his face."

"I seriously doubt that, Ruka-chan," the Red Head drawled, "Tamao's not whipped. He's pretty tough, he'd probably hit me back."

"Still . . ." Ruka let her sentence trail off into oblivion, then perked up immediately and sat up on the couch. "Hey, guess who Kyoko asked."

"Who?" Marie pretended to be curious. She could really care less who Kyoko had roped into being her date. It wasn't that Marie hated Kyoko, Her and Ruka were her best friends. The overactive cheerful disposition aside, Kyoko was good. In tiny doses. "Do I know him?"

"Well, you've been carrying around his umbrella for weeks now. So yeah, I'd say you know him."

"Oh, that's nice," Marie crushed out her cigarette, yawning like a lazy cat. "Wait! What?!" The girl jerked up in the chair to a sitting position, a horrified look in her eyes. What the fuck? "Izaki-san? She fucking asked Izaki Shun?!"

"Whoa there girl . . . don't kill the messenger." The statuesque teen leaned forward, a bright, knowing smile slowly enveloping her face. "I thought you said you didn't like him."

"Kyoko's got a big fuckin' mouth, you know that?"

"That's not the point. If you don't like him, then why are your anger veins vibrating?"

"Ha-ha-ha . . . you're so fu-ck-ing funny. Funny, funny, funny. I don't like anyone and I hate everything."

"Whatever," Ruka inwardly rolled her eyes at Marie's usual mantra.

"So . . ." Marie cleared her throat, "um, did he say yes?"

Scoffing, Ruka replied, "Of course he said yes. Kyoko's cute."

"What am I? A dog face, then?"

"See, you do like him! You like him, you like him, you really, really like him!"

"Oh dearest, naïve friend of mine, I like him not. I merely think that . . ." Marie lost her train of thought. She thought a lot of things: Kyoko was too bubbly, sweet for Izaki's gloomy, broodiness. He'd probably be annoyed after ten minutes of sitting through all those ceremonies. She knew she would be. Not that it's any of my business, Marie chastised herself. Oh, yeah, then why is it irking you so much? Oh, go to hell, if you don't mind. Been there done that, it wasn't what it was cracked up to be.

Ruka subtly studied her friend, still finding her as strange as she was the day they had met. You had two impressions on first setting eyes on Marie McMiller. One _used_ to be that she was a Yanki. At one time Marie drove a huge motorcycle everywhere she went, and fought a lot. It was almost like she went out of her way to pick a fight. That was how she had met Bando Hideto. The course, masculine way of speaking never seemed to go away though. The second impression was more along the lines of "crazy bitch." But the days of motorcycle gangs and fisticuffs were over, leaving a rather dull life in its wake.

"I have to go clean the toilet," Marie suddenly announced, jumping up to go do just that. Ruka stared blankly at the space where the Red Head had just been. What the . . . It had to be some sort ritualistic routine, who else would rush around their home (or sometimes other people's homes) like a chicken with its head off, cleaning ferociously? Marie was the only person Ruka could think of that could mop a floor angrily.

Sometime later the girl came out of the bathroom, hair sticking in every direction. She walked directly into the kitchen, stayed for a minute, then waltzed back out rubbing her arm tenderly. Instantaneously, Marie set work on cleaning the living room. Which it really didn't need – it was all ready shining with cleanliness.

"Hey . . ." Ruka failed to meet her friend's eyes, her voice steady with nervousness, "you gonna' be okay?"

"Of course, I'm always – fucking Tamao!!!" Marie jumped up from beside the reclining chair, holding a nub of a cigarette. "Look at this shit!" She waved the butt around quickly in the air.

"What?"

"There's a huge fucking scorch mark on my goddamned floor from His cigarette." Marie looked absolutely enraged at the moment, her usual round countenance pinched into a scowl. The other night Tamao had fallen asleep in the recliner with a cigarette, leaving a huge burn on the carpet. "My house could have burned down while I was sleeping. What a prick!" Then she bent back down, trying her damnedest to wipe up the spot.

"That's . . . wait," Ruka looked aghast at the thought she had just had, "did he spend the night here?!"

"I don't think I like the tone in your voice, Ruka-chan," Marie continued to scrub with force, to no avail.

"I don't care what you like, Marie-chan," Ruka mocked her aptly. "What the hell were both of you doing?"

"He was watching baseball on the bloody tellie, you know he doesn't have one."

"Oh," a sudden understanding came about, "I see."

Sighing, Marie pulled herself up off the floor. She emptied the ash tray in a near by waste bin, then sat it back on the tiny wooden stand by the recliner. "Why? Did you think I slept with him or something?"

"No. No, of course not."

"Liar."

"Please, come on, I think a little bit more highly of you than that."

"Only a little?" Marie grinned like the Cheshire cat she was.

"Yeah, yeah, don't let it go to your head. I think . . ." Ruka frowned a bit, pausing to think of the words.

"What?"

"If it makes you feel any better, Izaki-san only agreed to go with Kyoko because I told Genji to talk him into it."

"It doesn't," Marie said dully, sitting back down in her reclining chair, "because I all ready told you – I don't like him."

…................................................

It was Friday morning, the Sun was shining for once, and Marie wasn't in a very good mood. This in turn put Kyoko and Ruka in dour moods as well. The cause of all this sourness: three of the most fiercest boys to ever walk the grounds of Suzuran were late to the train station. No, Marie glared at huge poster of Gacktu-san advertising Fuji Film, late doesn't even define what they are. One Green eye twitched detestably.

Beside her, Ruka exhaled a long, drawn out sigh. I know, Marie quietly agreed, believe me I know. A few moments later Kyoko came trotting back up to them, three sodas in hand. She handed one to each of them and then sat on the other side of Marie. Raising a thin eyebrow in question toward Kyoko, Marie stared blatantly.

"I didn't see any Pepsi – sorry," Kyoko shrugged uncaring, then began to open her glass bottle. Marie studied the bottle carefully, only making out about a third of what was written on it. When it came to Kanji, Hiragana, or even Katakana her reading skills could of used a little work. But when it came to Romanji, she was the master, if she did say so herself.

Glancing at both Ruka and Kyoko's soda's, the girl noted that one was a clear liquid and the other Orange. Hers' was a bright Green, with a strange light Green top on all of them that she had never seen before. It must have been some sort of novelty item, the Red Head concluded. Marie continued to watch her friends as they tore off the plastic tops, took them apart, then put them back on the top of the bottle, pressing down with much force. A loud pop resounded through the area, only perplexing Marie even further. What the hell kind of soda requires manual labour to actually get to drink it?

All her wonder went out the window when she caught sight of three dark figures casually strolling their way. Damn them, she cursed, they're not even trying to hurry! What lazy fucking sods. While Kyoko and Ruka stood up to greet their dates merrily as they came to stand in front of them, Marie remained seated. She crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pursed into a very thin line.

"Yoi dekita?" Tamao lopsidedly grinned down at Marie. (You ready?) He could tell from the moment he set eyes on her that she was pissed. Royally. Frankly, he didn't really care, he was only doing this for her because she looked so desperate that night in the kitchen. The desperation on her face made her seem vulnerable, something Tamao wasn't accustomed to seeing out of his next door neighbour.

" . . ." Marie jumped to her feet in one deft movement, swinging her Messenger bag over her head and shoulders. Without as much as one word or insult, she breezed past Tamao, ramming her shoulder into his body as she swept by. He mildly stumbled, smiling the entire time. She was kind of pretty when she mad.

…........................................

Quiet comfort my ass, Marie's eyes became slits as she sat in a seat next to Serizawa Tamao. They were on the Shinkansen (aka Bullet Train) headed to Kyoto, but a crying child was getting on Marie McMiller's last nerve. More often than not, she was a very patient girl. Not at this particular moment though. Her foot subconsciously began to tap rapidly on the floor, about to turn around and yell at the parents of that annoying kid . . .

"Ome," Tamao touched her arm gently, making her forget about the fight she was probably about to start. "Zurakare na?" (Hey, let's split, huh?) He stood up and she shrugged, then followed him. They walked down the aisle, passing through a few cars to get the one on the end. Today, shocking as it was, there weren't many people in the smoking car.

Tamao slid into a seat, followed by Marie soon after. In a few seconds, Tamao had lit up two cigarettes, giving one to her. Sighing as a wave of nicotine washed through her veins, Marie slid down into her seat stretching lazily. A cunning grin plastered itself on her face, imagining that Genji and Izaki were just dying for a cigarette right about now. That's evil, the angel on her right shoulder told her; I know, replied the devil on the left, that's the best part of it – ha ha ha.

"Nani kangaeten no?" Tamao turned his head to the side, his eyes pouring over her expression. (What's on your mind?)

"Eh?" The cigarette in her mouth jiggled as she spoke and the malice filled smile disappeared. "Kangae goto shitteta." (Huh? I was just thinking.)

"Sonna koto hajimete." (That's a first.)

"Shine yo." (Go to hell.)

"Onnanoko saki ni dozo." (Ladies first.)

Marie turned to peer up at him, then blew a long puff of smoke in his face. That didn't even faze him; Tamao returned the favour. For some minutes they blew smoke into each others faces, daring one another to turn away first. Finally, Marie turned away, rubbing one eye roughly. "Chikusho . . ." the girl muttered, "Itai wane." (Damn it . . . that hurts.) Tamao chuckled, continuing to puff away on his cancer stick.

Without warning, Marie balled up a fist, knuckle-punching him harshly on the upper arm. Tamao blinked dumbly for a minute, slowly turning his head to meet her gaze. She had a humongous, retarded sneer on her face. He shook his head, then averted his eyes casually. Damn, that kind of stung . . . .

…..............................................

The hotel that the "formal shindig" was taking place at was strictly Western style, and way too fancy in Marie's opinion. But Ruka and Kyoko seemed to revel in the novelty of it all. At the moment Marie was in the lobby, lounging in a chair, looking bored out of her mind. Not wanting to go through of all the bullshit at the receptionist desk, she opted for Ruka and Kyoko to check them all in and get the keys.

"Omae!" a pair of keys flew over toward her, hitting her in the head. Immediately, she grabbed them off the floor, jumping up from her seat. She whirled around to face whoever it was who had rudely pelted her with the metal. Glaring, Marie ambled toward Serizawa Tamao, who was about to double over from laughter. The girl shoved him roughly, pushing past him to the elevator to join their friends.

Not only was the elevator filled with an awkward silence shared by all six teenagers, the music was horrendous. Ruka and Genji were the least perturbed at being there, actually they were glowing from head to toe. Kyoko and Izaki seemed more uneasy around one another (especially Izaki.) Don't even ask about the three hour ride on the Bullet Train. Meanwhile, Marie had initiated a staring contest with Tamao. Having to look up didn't bother her in the least, but he found it terribly amusing looking down upon the short girl.

"Hey, you guys coming?" Ruka popped her head back into the elevator, finding their staring contest irratating to say the least. In the midst of the stare down, the elevator had stopped, opened, and everyone else had gotten out. Except for them, so absorbed in one another to care about anything else.

"What?" Marie blinked, then turned to look at Ruka. "Oh, hai. Hayaku, tawake bakkari da," she grabbed a hold of Tamao's wrist, dragging him out of the enclosed space. (Oh, yeah. Hurry up, bonehead.)

Their rooms were all next to one another, small, but very classy. As Marie walked around her room, she stared wide-eyed half disgusted with the shiny decor. It's a good thing the school's paying for this shit, she mused, I sure as hell wouldn't. Genji, Tamao, and Izaki stood outside in the hallway, unsure of whether or not they should go into the girls' rooms. They all mirrored one another: like junior high boys at their first dance, standing against the wall with shuffling feet.

"Oh!" Marie practically squealed. "Hellooo tall dark and handsome!"

Tamao propelled himself off the wall, exceedingly curious as to why the Red Head was squeaking like a fan girl. Genji and Izaki gave one another a questionable look, then followed Tamao hurriedly. By going into Marie's room it meant that there would be no embarrassing stumbling over the fact of one girl, one boy, and one bed. God forbid . . .

"Score!!!" Marie squealed again even more girly than before. When she turned around she found three pairs of eyes gawking openly. In her mouth she had a bright Yellow bag of Cheese Curls dangling, and her arms were loaded with all the alcohol she could carry. Grinning sheepishly, she spat the bag of chips out, then giggled nervously. "Uisuki ka?" (Whiskey?)

Only Tamao moved moved forth to "relieve" her of some of the bottles she was carrying. In a couple of swift movements, Marie leapt on the bed, jumped up and down a few times, then plopped into a laying position. Okay, so maybe _this_ part of the trip wasn't so bad: free food, free liquor, and of course free CABLE! The girl flipped on the television and in a flash cracked open a bottle of miniature Jack Daniels.

Soon Tamao plopped down beside her, making a point to sprawl out, crowding her off the luxurious bed. She elbowed him in shoulder, he elbowed her back, she jabbed him in the ribs with two fingers, he jabbed her back . . . Izaki and Genji shared another look with one another, then turned back to the show. And, I don't mean the one on the tellie.

"Kaese, gejashiku!!!" Marie yelled, reaching frantically for the remote control. (Give it back, asshole!!!)

"No," and Tamao kept it just out of reach. All the while she was trying to wrench it from his hands, he was flipping channels rapidly. "Ah, suge, basubaru." (Awesome, baseball.) Marie uttered some unintelligible sounds, giving up on the whole thing. What the hell was with boys and baseball anyway? She didn't think it was as great as they made it out to be. If it hadn't been for the whiskey, the girl would have been bored to tears. So she nursed another mini-bottle of Jack Daniels, then another, and one more for good luck.

**A Few Hours and a Few More Bottles Later . . .**

"Kono chikan mitai," Marie commented, applying more kohl eyeliner to her eyes in the bathroom mirror. (You look like a pervo.) Of course she was referring to the way Tamao was unceremoniously leaning against the doorway of the bathroom, ogling her primping rituals. The bad mood had been totally forgotten. She was actually feeling in a good mood, enough to fire back with those infamous quips to Serizawa Tamao. All the alcohol probably had a lot to do with that.

Tamao merely chuckled about her comment, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't about to miss the few moments that he had ever seen Marie be feminine. Plus, he had a pretty good view of her chest from here. The bright Red dress she was wearing wasn't short, but a little low cut. And, with her leaning over the sink like that fixing up her face, you could see right down it. Just where the hell had she been hiding those things anyway? Tamao grinned broadly, blowing out a stream of smoke from his nose.

While Marie had been changing behind closed doors, Tamao had pulled on a suit. It was something that she had bought him, to which he felt pretty lame about having to have a girl by him something. But if she was poor, he was pretty destitute. He promised over and over that he would pay her back somehow, yet she didn't seem too worried about it. It _really_ didn't matter to Marie, the damned thing had been dirt cheap where they had picked it up from.

Marie hadn't even bothered to look at Serizawa Tamao since he had gotten changed, she was too busy trying to think of ways how to get out of the ceremony. Finally, the girl was satisfied with her make up. Stepping into some Red flats, Marie turned around to go out the door. She came face to face with Tamao, her mouth falling open in shock. Was this really the same boy that lived next door to her? Usually he was scruffy looking, not to mention his lack of any fashion sensitivity. Stupid flowery shirts, Marie thought. Now adorned in black from head to toe, all the girl could think was, mhmm, tasty.

"Nani?" he asked, pushing away from the door. (What?)

". . ." Marie turned back around to the sink, hastily grabbing her Vanilla body spray off the counter. A few puffs later and the entire room smelled of sweet innocence. So that's it, Tamao surmised, that's why she always smells so damn good. You are a pervo, his mind turned against him, you've been smelling her like she was in heat or something. Tamao scowled at his own thoughts, a dark look crossing his features.

All at once, Marie faced him head on, an almost self conscious look about her. He heard her take a deep breath, as if preparing for battle or something. "Ne-ne, Tamao?" (Say, Tamao?)

"Hai." (I'm listening.)

"Atashi no koto . . . kirei dato omotten no ka?" (Do you . . . think I'm pretty?)

Now, let's make one thing crystal clear, Tamao knew he wasn't an expert when it came girls. Yet he knew enough to know that girls were loaded with trick questions, and those trick questions just grew more absurd as the girl grew into womanhood. _Would you still love me if I lost a leg? Would you still love me if I were ugly? What would you do if accidentally called you Daddy during sex? _No matter what, always answer: yes dear or of course I would still love you, I wouldn't care, and last but not least, no your butt doesn't look fat in that. Even it her ass is the size of a football field, deny, deny, DENY!

Tamao didn't even hesitate for a split second when he answered her. "Atarimae dayo." (Of course, that goes without saying.)

"Honto-honto?" (Really?) Marie wasn't looking for compliments, she wasn't that shallow of a female. But from time to time, those little demons of insecurity did sweep over her like a tsunami. It's said a woman thinks about her body (in a good or bad way) every fifteen minutes; Marie maybe thought about hers every fifteen days. Truthfully, she was just too lazy sometimes to even try.

"Ii," he smiled softly, laying on the charm, "ichiban utsukushii." (Yes, the most beautiful.)

"Un," was all she said with a firm nod, then waltzed past him back into the room. Damn, he thought, girls are fuckin' nuts. Shouldn't that have gotten him at least to second base? What the fuck? Where did that come from? He shook his head, mirroring a confused puppy dog.

"Ne, Tamao?" (Hey, Tamao?)

"Eh?" (Huh?) Once more did he shake his head, fobbing off all those wicked thoughts. . . But when he turned around to face her, he found not all his body was complying. Down boy.

"Arigato na." (Thanks.) Then she picked up a random mini-bottle of liquour off the bed, her preference of Jack Daniels all gone by now. Marie shook it towards him, glowing with a buzz. "Issho ni nominai?" (Shall we drink together?)

Tamao laughed loudly, finding her actually using such a cheesy pick up line impeccably funny. He nodded, walking to her to take the bottle. Their hands touched as the bottled changed owners, and Tamao realized that he couldn't break away from her remarkable Green eyes. In like manner, Marie couldn't turn away from him. Once again they found their bodies dangerously near. She felt her heart pounding away beneath her breast, so loud to her ears, she thought, Tamao must hear it.

A loud pounding at the door made them jump apart, the bottle of liquour falling to the floor with a resonating clunk. "Hey, hurry up, we're gonna' be late!" Ruka called through the door. Marie took that interruption as an opportunity to escape a potentially embarrassing episode. She grabbed her Black trench coat off a chair, rushing to the door. When she was out the door, Tamao sighed heavily, then followed the girl. What he didn't quite realize was that he more than likely would have gotten to that second base if Ruka hadn't chosen that moment to intervene.

**Author's Note and Miscellaneous Crapola**

**All right peeps, there's the first part of the third chapter. I'm not quite sure if it was funny or not, but I laughed while typing up the banter between Marie and Ruka and Marie and Tamao. I really hope you are all enjoying my epic tale. This is probably one of the only stories I really dedicated myself to, meaning that I didn't make a newb mistake and write it by the fly of my pants. It's all written up in advance in a huge Five Star notebook, just waiting for me to type it up. Although I will admit I have added some scenes because I felt the story needed them. **

**The train scene in this first part of the chapter wasn't planned, on a whim I added it. The Japanese Railway system AKA JR is really an awesome thing. The Bullet Train runs nearly all the way down Honshu on the Pacific seaboard (Japan's biggest island.) It's 340 miles from Tokyo to Kyoto, taking about three hours of travel. Damn, it goes by quick, kiddies. Contrary to the scene I wrote about Marie, Tamao, Kyoko, Ruka, Genji, and Izaki riding on the Bullet Train, it really is fun!**

**Well, I'm off for now, you cheeky little monkeys! Take care, God speed, and please review. I love you all more than Miso Soup, always and forever. :D Ja ne!**


	5. Chapter 3 POINT 2

**Chapter **

**Bakudan Ga Okkochiru Toki**

**(When the Bombs Fall.)**

Marie, Ruka, Kyoko, and their respective dates were sitting at a large round table, facing a wide, brightly lit stage. The room was cavernous, so large that Marie didn't even know they made places like that. It had been reserved especially for tonight, and decorated with extremely gaudy fastenings. Typical. The entire student body and administrators of the school were present, easily filling the better part of the room.

Currently, Marie was tapping a foot restlessly, about to burn her retinas out with her silver zippo lighter if she had to watch and listen to another jerk-off babble on incessantly. The girl could have swore that each speech got longer and droller as time went by. And they were all more or less same, "this is your last year in school, treasure these moments, never forget your friends or deny your talent . . . blah, blah, blah." Jesus Christ eating a hamburger, Marie thought, I can't take much more of this . . .

At long last (after two hours of monotony) it was all over, clapping, cheers, and in general happiness ensued. Marie begrudgingly clapped only after Ruka and Kyoko both kicked her under the table. Once the noise had died down, the girl immediately dove for the menu in front of her. Her stomach was about to eat itself for lack of food and too much alcohol. "So desu ne . . . " Marie mumble, ardently flipping through the pages of the menu. (Let's see . . .)

She felt a sudden nudge from Tamao, which brought her direct attention to his face. Though his countenance was the epitome of apathy, his eyes told the whole story. Ah, Marie realized, everything's in English. When she looked up at the others, she saw Ruka and Kyoko dealing with the same situation as she was. They were explaining to Genji and Izaki what kind of food and drinks there were. "Nani ga ii?" Marie asked casually, careful not make him look moronic.(What do you want?)

Silently Tamao was very relieved. He was the type of person who didn't like to point out his lack of knowledge of anything. In his eyes it would make him seem less of man. And, to a man, looking like an idiot in front of a woman is the last thing they ever want to do. Especially the Red Headed girl sitting next to him. God forbid.

"Biru," Tamao told her evenly.

"Uh . . . nonde dekinai," Marie said tentatively. (We can't drink.) She had a feeling that things could turn ugly at any moment when all three boys found out that no one would serve them alcohol. Being able to access the fridge stocked with booze earlier was just dumb luck. "Atashitachi wakai sugiru." (We're underage.)

"Nanda yo?!" Tamao exclaimed, clearly outraged that there would be no mixing of the drinks. (What the hell?!) The only thing that kept him going through the whole damned ceremony was thinking that there was going to be some beer afterward.

"Baka jan," Izaki declared, crossing his arms across his chest. (That's stupid.) Genji didn't utter one word, so disappointed at the moment that he could have started crying. The three boys damn near pouted at this point. Kyoko and Ruka were completely unfazed by this fact. Marie however – was pouting, not that she needed anymore liquour in her system. The girl should have been sweating whiskey, with as much Jack Daniels that she had inhaled.

At long last the waiter appeared, all sunshine and a beaming smile. Marie was a waitress, so she was baffled out how cheery this one bloke could be at having such a menial job. The pay was shitty, and unless your boobs and ass were hanging out you didn't get tips.

"I'm Mark, and I'll be your waiter this evening," the waiter interjected, looking only at Genji, " so, what can I get you?"

As much as this guy's annoying happiness irked Marie, the fact remained that he was blatantly scamming on Takiya Genji. Per usual, the boys didn't pick up one single god damned thing. The girls on the other hand were ready to rip the waiter's eyes out. He made a point to give an up and down to Izaki and Tamao as well. Abruptly, Marie slammed a fist down on the table, bringing Mark's attention to her.

"We'll have coffee," she stared at the man evenly, her eyes dark and foreboding.

"Uh, okay," Mark flushed a dark Red, realizing that he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. So to speak Ruka and Kyoko took the liberty of ordering for themselves and their dates, giving the evil eye to Mark as well. "All right, I'll be right back."

"I bet you will . . ." Marie muttered, scowling severely as he ambled away.

"Eh?" Tamao nudged the girl again, quickly noticing that ominous look on her face. It was the same one she always got when Tokaji came around. It used to be kind of funny watching to two fight; Tamao had never seen Tokaji hate someone so much. But after that last incident, where the verbal fisticuffs became actually physical, he wanted to keep her away from his friend. Far away. God knows that Tokaji Yuji could hold a grudge that could put an Irishman to shame. He was still fobbing off having "that" talk with Tokaji about just letting it go.

"Bloody bum chum," Kyoko shook her head disdainfully. Marie's head whipped over to gawk at her friend: that was her line, wasn't it. Naturally Kyoko had picked up some of Marie's more colourful language.

"I know," Ruka ardently agreed. "That was really rude, right?"

Marie burst out with a loud guffaw, unable to hold back her laughter any longer. It was just too priceless hearing her best friends talk. She always wondered why they seemed to be fascinated by anything foreign. While Ruka adored anything American, Kyoko opted for British slang. This left Marie somewhere in the middle, who was bourn in Ireland, but had grown up in England and America. They really did watch too many American dramas for her taste. Most television she found was all too predictable for her taste. How droll . . .

"Na," Genji looked around at the girls, "nani hanashite no?" (Hey, what're you guys talking about?)

" . . . betsu ni . . ." they echoed, then burst out in simultaneous giggles. The terrible case of the giggles set in, Marie, Ruka, and Kyoko finding that once they began they couldn't stop. This only made the boys more confused than before. Genji leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, then mumbled, "Kichigai." (Fuckin' crazy.) To prove his point, Marie hung her tongue out the side of her mouth, crossing her eyes for good measure. She looked so retarded, that all of the teens couldn't help but crack up.

Then in a matter of seconds, Mark was back with their drinks. The light, merry mood drifted away like the wind, a cold silence settling over the table. Damn those boys and their obliviousness! "So, are y'all ready to order?" Ruka and Kyoko set about ordering for themselves (and Genji and Izaki.) Feeling that little devil pop up again on her shoulder, Marie leaned over into Tamao, to whisper in his ear huskily. If the following words hadn't followed, he might have been turned on. "Ne, Tamao . . . soko no okama ome no kuto sutto mitteru." (That ponce keeps looking at you.)

"Eh?!!!" Tamao jerked away from her, gaping with revulsion and surprise. His voice wafted through the air, making many people turn and scowl in his direction. Ignoring them all, Tamao grabbed a hold of Marie's chair, pulling her close to him, then draped his arm around her shoulders. In turn, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Kono ama . . ." (You bitch . . .) Marie simply leaned into his half embrace, playing along with his need to show everyone that he didn't have "that kind of hobby."

Kyoko in the mean time was alternating with looking from Izaki to Tamao to Marie. Izaki was still stuck in his perpetual brooding posture, but now more irritated than ever. Though Kyoko could be a huge airhead at times, she was probably the only one who picked up on . . . She wanted to believe that Izaki Shun had chosen to come with her of his own free will. But she had pretty good hunch that Aizawa Ruka had something to do with it. Regardless of that, the girl truly believed that Izaki would come around and develop some feelings for her. Now – Kyoko wasn't so sure. At least not while Marie in the same room.

…..................................................

Some time later after dinner was over, Marie was sitting on top of a sink in one of the many restrooms in the hotel. Ruka stood beside her, reapplying make up and generally doing other girlie things. Kyoko was leaning up against the opposite wall, eyes glued to the Red Head. Swinging her legs to and fro, Marie began to hum softly. She was usually awestruck about how gorgeous her friends were, and usually felt a stab of jealousy when being around them.

Natsuo Kyoko was angry with Marie McMiller, it was just all so baffling to her: if Izaki really liked Marie, then how come he came with her? Obviously he knew that he would suffer seeing the girl with another guy. What the hell was up with all this drama recently, anyway?

"Arghhhh!!!" Marie groaned, jumping off the sink counter. "This is so freakin' boring!"

"Tell me about it," Kyoko mumbled, shuffling a foot on the floor.

Marie ambled to the door, peaking outside for a brief moment. Frowning, she turned back to her friends. "Where hell did they go?"

"I think Genji said something about the Lounge," Ruka smoothed down a long, Ebony sheet of hair. "They saw some darts or pool or whatever . . ."

"Figures," Marie shrugged nonchalantly, "losers." The girl joined Ruka in front of the mirror, idly pulling at her messy hair. No matter what she did, it refused to lay down completely. So she opted for ruffling it, which seemed to make it look better.

"Hey, Marie?" Kyoko asked uneasily.

"Hm?"

"Do you . . . like Izaki-san?"

". . ." She instantly ceased all movement, her arms falling lifelessly to her sides. Marie looked at Kyoko's face in the mirror. It was only then the girl noticed how morose Kyoko appeared. That was so unlike her that the Red Head felt a sharp pain in her heart at seeing one of her best friends in such distress. "Why the hell do you two keep asking me that?"

"He likes you," Kyoko informed Marie, her tone the definition of monotony.

"Shut up," Marie looked away, unable to look at her any longer. "Even if he does, Izaki-san means nothing to me. Nothing-at-all."

"Ah, Serizawa-san, then?" Ruka rhetorically asked with an understanding nod.

"No, not him, either," she sighed wearily at all the badgering. "I just got out of one relationship, you expect to jump into another? Come on, lay off, huh?" Turning on heel and practically stomping off, Marie left them alone. She wasn't quite at that breaking point of true rage, but she knew if she were to talk anymore . . . she'd end up regretting what she said.

Marie's intention was to go back to her room, bathe, then sleep until noon the next day. However, with all the thoughts cascading around in her head distractedly, the girl didn't even hear a door to her side crack open. One arm flew out from behind the door, dragging her backwards inside. Her mouth was covered quickly by a hand, disallowing the scream welling up in her throat to come out. Swiftly, Marie was roughly spun around, coming face to face with . . .

"Domo," Serizawa Tamao smirked widely. (Hi.) Marie opened her mouth to say something, then closed it quickly. One eye twitched, wild ire swelling within her chest. Damn him . . .she shoved him away from her harshly, glaring with all the strength she could muster. What the hell did he think he was doing?

"Kono kuso tare!" she hissed, both fists subconsciously clenching. (You asshole!) Tamao on a whim had decided to lay in wait at the inside pool, knowing that Marie would have to pass by to get back to her room. He initially thought that it would be hilarious to play such prank on her. But the look on her face said otherwise, first angry, then uncontrollable tears started falling. Oh shit . . . "Kowaikatta," she said trying to hide the fact that she had truly been petrified, "honto ni kowaikatta . . . kono tawake bakkari da." (I was scared, really scared . . . you bonehead.)

Tamao wasn't sure, but he thought his heart stopped for a few minutes. Before he could tell his body to stop, the boy moved forward, enwrapping Marie in arms. She stood motionless, incapable and unwilling to move. If had been any other day she more than likely would have pushed Tamao away, but she was still feeling helplessly frightened. Having someone sneaking up on you like that, dragging you away into a dimly lit area, a thousand thoughts raced through your head. Help. Please someone. I don't want to be raped. I don't want to die.

"Sumimasen," he laid his cheek atop her head, the ever present scent of Vanilla devouring his senses, "sumimasen, Marie." (I'm sorry, forgive me.)

" . . . kirai . . . daikirai dayo." (I hate you, I really hate you.) And she did push him away now, taking quick steps backwards. In fact she didn't even want to be near anyone right now, let alone him. She hated when people saw her cry. Even worse, Tamao had now seen her at her weakest in the last few months. The boy couldn't lie, not even to himself: Marie's words had stung. Even if he realized she didn't mean them, it was like she had slapped him across the face.

Without another word, the girl turned around, walking out the door. Tamao stood there for a long time, head filled with a million apologies and explanations. There were so many things left unsaid between them, and he was never one to leave unfinished business laying about. He was the type of guy who voiced his opinion, and trust me he had a lot of them. But when it came to actually expressing his sincere care for someone, it always hung mute. Taking a deep breath, Tamao took off, leaving the pool.

**A Couple of Hours Later**

**Gozen Rei (Midnight)**

Genji and Izaki didn't dare ask Tamao where he was going. After he had met up with them back down in the lounge, they played darts and pool for a while, managing to score some drinks along the way. But when Genji suggested heading back home, it was only Serizawa Tamao who remained behind. He really didn't need to say anything, they knew where he would end up. The unspoken sexual tension between Marie and Tamao was so thick that a butcher's knife would have a hard time slicing through it.

To Takiya Genji, it was no business of his what Ruka's best friend decided to do with Serizawa Tamao. He wasn't about to stick his nose in other people's business. To Izaki Shun, he knew without a doubt that it was none of his business, yet that didn't stop his jaw from clenching when he thought about Serizawa and Marie together.

Izaki didn't like Marie. Or, at least that's what he kept telling himself. But his dreams and reveries were filled with Crimson hair, Emerald eyes, and skin so pallid that the Moon would weep with envy. He was too proud of a man to ever "confess" or even fight over a girl. The fact remained prevalent in his mind that she acted like he didn't even register on her radar. Marie hadn't even spoken to him on this entire trip and she wouldn't – not with Tamao around.

When Izaki and Genji went one way and Tamao the other way back upstairs, still there were no words to be said. Used to Izaki's stony silence, Genji didn't really think much of his mood. The thought that Izaki could possibly be envious of Tamao did cross his mind though. But he wasn't about to delve into a conversation filled with emotions and the liking or disliking of a girl. Man, boys are really a pain in the ass, huh?

….......................................

Marie was laying on her bed, adorned in a white, fluffy hotel bathrobe, white earphones dangling from her ears. It was a nightly ritual for her to listen to the Blue Hearts before going to bed. When ever the girl felt a little blue, or even angry, all she had to do was crank up **The Blue Hearts** and she would feel a lot better. The song switched on random play, now belting out **Akage no Kelly** by **Thee Michelle Gun Elephant**. But something was wrong with the song right now: when did was there ever a steady, annoying pounding in the middle of it?

Yanking the earphones out, Marie soon discovered that the pounding was coming from her door. God, she rolled her eyes, what a drag. The girl had a suspicion of who was so rudely banging away in the middle of the night, so she laid there staring at the door knob. The pounding continued, growing louder by the second.

Sighing, Marie turned off her Ipod, laying on the nightstand beside the bed. "Ima iku!" (I'm coming wait a minute!) She swung her legs off the side of the bed, going as slow as possible just for the hell of it. Taking a few deep breaths, she unlocked the door, then opened it.

"Domo," Tamao whispered. (Hi.) Marie scoffed, wondering why the hell he was whispering when he had just been loud as hell a moment ago.

"Ah," she said blandly, "domo." (Yeah, hi.)

"Ja?" (Well?)

"Nani?" her grip on the door knob tightened, her female intuition telling her body no. "Nani yo?" (What? What do you want?)

"Shitteru dessho?" (You know, don't you?)

"Ie. Shiranai . . . baka." (No, I don't know . . . idiot.) Marie added an amused chuckle to this statement, forgetting why she was so pissed at him to begin with. Leisurely, the girl opened to door wide, motioning with a hand, "Dozo, Tamao." (Come in, please.) Tamao wasn't a complete idiot, so he did just that . . .

**Author's Note and Miscellaneous Crapola**

**First off, let me thank all my faithful readers and reviewers. I really appreciate all of you and love you the most! :D Here's a shout out to:**

**MandiBear, my first reviewer, Domo Arigato Gossaimashita. **

**Musing Goddesses, you've reviewed all my chapters, Domo Arigato Gossaimashita**

**SaharaB, you took time out of your day to read and review, Domo Arigato Gossaimashita**

**And to all the people who are reading but not reviewing, you guys are mean. I can see the hits and viewers coming in when I login into my account, but thanks anyways for coming back again and again to read my story. So, thank you Person From, Russia, Philippines, France, Singapore, France, USA, and Canada. I love you, too! ^_^**

**Back to It . . .**

**The last part of Chapter III is on my mind and I've been fobbing off transferring it from paper to computer because it's a rather intimate scene. I could just make up an alternate scene, but it's almost imperative for what happens between Marie and Tamao because it's essential to the plot line later on. Well, I won't be too long with typing it up, so be patient and keep coming back for more. **

**Also I wasn't trying to offend Gay people with all this, I actually experienced something like this with one of my previous boyfriends. I was so mad at the f-ing waiter, I wanted to hit him. And, my (ex) boyfriend thought it was hilarious. So, sorry if I did hurt anyone feelings. I love you all forever and forever. **

**Akage no Kelly ****by Thee Michelle Gun Elephant, means Redheaded Kelly. And The Blue Hearts is a f-ing awesome band! Go listen to them now! XOXOXO**


	6. Chapter 3 POINT 3

**Chapter **

**Bakudan Ga Okkochiru Toki**

**(When the Bombs Fall.)**

**(Warning: Some Graphic Scenes Happen Below)**

Marie closed the door behind her, locking it. The soft click of safety seemed so loud to her ears, devouring the silence in the room. The girl was leery of facing Tamao head-to-toe, fearing that some sort of bad scene was about to occur. Taking a deep breath, Marie slowly turned back around. She was about ask what he was doing there, but Tamao never gave her the chance.

Everything in Tamao's mind told him no - not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever, but his body was not responding. Instead of words, he pulled Marie into his body, embracing her tightly. As Marie fell into him, her eyes widened, pure shock running through her veins. It took a moment or two, but she finally raised her arms to wrap around his waist. This was okay, wasn't it? It was just a hug, right? Friends hugged all the time, right? Right?!

The two teens stood in the middle of the hotel room, two statues that dare not move an inch. For many, many minutes it was just Girl and Boy, nothing else in the world could break them apart. Then, Tamao pulled away first, just enough to gaze down into her youthful countenance. God, she looked so young, her round face hiding her true age. Without much thought, Tamao lowered his head towards her. Oh . . . was all she thought. And, just before his lips touched hers, Marie asked, "Nani shite no?" (What are you doing?)

Tamao jerked back, forced to halt shortly. At this moment there was no room for running away, or denying that they both wanted one another. Neither could look away, the moment too intense to break eye contact. Tenderly, his hands slid down from her shoulders to her arms. "Honto no koto itte - shiranai," Tamao told her, his lips curving into that familiar smirk. (To tell you the truth -I have no idea.)

"Tabun ne . . . atashitachi itosugoi osuru." (Maybe . . . we should say goodbye.) Marie's voice sliced through the air as well as his heart.

"So nano? Uso bakka. " (Really? You're lying.) His expression dropped to unadulterated stone; he had never looked more serious than now. Marie's grip on his waist tightened, betraying her true feelings and wishes. The boy never gave her another chance to add on to her monologue. Swiftly, he bent down once more, burrowing his face in the crook of her neck. That sweet scent of Vanilla washed over his senses again, making him wonder how she managed to smell so innocent all the time. His breath on her skin was warm, goose flesh popping up in it's wake. Gently, Tamao placed small, wet kisses up the side of her neck to her ear. With an uneven breath, he said, "Kimi ga shitai." (I need you.)

It wasn't a "I want you" or "I want to fuck you" it was an "I need you." And at those words, Marie lost her resolve; she wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her tippy toes to get closer to him. Their mouths met for the first time, yet it felt like they had done this a thousand times before. His kisses were hard – demanding, all tongue, teeth, and spit. Tamao slid his hands downward over her arms to her waist, then down to her butt. A surprised squeak came from Marie as he picked her up in one swift motion. Instinctively her legs wrapped around his waist, never once breaking the kiss.

A few steps backwards and Tamao had Marie on the bed, laying on top of her. Once again he began to trail kisses, this time downward from her mouth, to chin, to her neck. There he rested, kissing, sucking, and nipping at supple, wan flesh. His hands found the tie in the front of her fluffy robe, undoing it quickly. Marie was completely nude underneath, having just gotten out of a bath, so she laid beneath the boy, baring all. For a few moments Tamao merely looked upon her body: breasts as pale as a Spring Moon, and a surprise to him – pink nipples. Just the sight of her amazed him, and he couldn't resist kissing her again, one hand grasping a breast.

Marie moaned softly through the kiss, making him put more force into his caresses and kisses. This wasn't enough for the boy, he wanted his skin against hers, he wanted all of her for himself. Quickly Tamao sat up, straddling her diminutive body. With anticipative, shaking hands, he unbuttoned his shirt, finding it more annoying than ever. Stupid clothes. Without care, he tossed the shirt to the side. His breath caught in his throat when he felt her reach up to run cool hands over his chest. Marie was so cold to the touch, like icy, silk upon his fiery, rough flesh. Deftly the girl slid her hands up to his stomach until she reached his belt. She bit her lip as she worked on unbuckling his belt. It was then he remembered he was still wearing his shoes. Stupid shoes.

Groaning, Tamao slid off the girl, coming to sit on the side of the bed. Hurriedly, he removed his shoes, the belt, and finally his pants and boxers. Marie sat up as well, moving to sit up on her knees behind him. She snaked her arms around his neck, laying her head upon his shoulder. His movements were stilled, stifled by the feel of her breasts on his back. Tamao heard a light sigh escape her lips, and he totally forgot what he was doing over there to begin with.

Pure instincts took over . . . he was on top of her again, kissing, touching, wrapped up in one another. Serizawa didn't have much experience when it came to sex, or even trying to pick up chicks, but that didn't stop him from knowing exactly how touch her, how to make her arch her back with a moan or pleasurable sigh. Tamao couldn't get enough of Marie – kissing her, tasting almost every inch of her body, it just didn't cut it. Even her nails raking up and down his back leaving violent red marks on olive skin only served to make him want more, more, more . . . Coarsely, he threw one of her legs over his shoulder, and just as he was about to . . .

"Tamao," Marie clung to him, trying to still her breath, her body, "chotto matte." (Wait a minute.) That brought him back to reality with a swift jerk. He stared down into her face, thinking she had to be the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on at that moment.

"Do shittan dayo?" he asked, voice low and husky. (What's wrong?) Did I hurt her, he thought, did I do something wrong?

She didn't speak right away, mainly because she was having a hard time cogitating correctly. Lust, desire, and need fogged her mind with a thick sheet of unknowing. It wasn't that she was unsure, or having seconds thought. In all truth, she wanted him so bad that she could all ready feel him inside of her. Marie would have let him take her as many times as he wanted, but the rational side of her brain kicked in at the last minute. "Tamao," she eventually said, "gomu tsukete?" (Do you have a condom?)

The boy blinked dumbly at her for a minute, letting the words roll around his head. "Kuso . . ." he mumbled. (Shit.) He had never carried a condom around in his life. Hell, he never thought he would need one anytime soon. Tamao lay atop Marie, poised between her legs, holding up his weight with both hands. With a disappointed sigh, the boy collapsed on her. He laid his head on her chest, trying to forget just how stupid he was. Compassionately, Marie brought a hand up to stroke his hair. The girl had no intention of saying anything, less she make this bizarre moment even more awkward.

He was listening to the sound of heart beat now, rapid and still very excited. Grabbing her hands and raising them above her head, Tamao lifted himself up a little. The room was dim, a lone lamp illuminating very little. But he could still make out vivid Red hair and deep Green eyes that seemed to hold an ancient knowledge unknown to others.

It was just supposed to be a few more kisses, a few more caresses. Just a few more of those and both teens lost all sense or right and wrong or what the possible outcome could be. Hormones and simple human need could over power even the strongest of people. So when the boy felt her legs wrap around him, pulling him downward, he was no longer thinking logically. "Please, please, please . . ." Marie whispered, her eyes clenched shut, and voice filled to the brim with yearning.

Then . . . he was inside her in one swift motion. Marie gasped in surprise, eyes opening again, only to find that Tamao was looking directly at her. Her nails bit into his back, a dull sting ringing out across his skin. It didn't matter – nothing really mattered now . . . being with her like this, so warm and tight, contrasting with how she felt on the outside. I could die, he thought, I want to die – here- in her embrace, or stay in it forever. Whichever came first.

…...................................................

**Asa (Morning)**

Tamao awoke first, an annoying ray of sunlight drifting though the blinds onto his face. One eye cracked open, he groaned, then rolled over. Wait a minute . . . he sat up with a jerk. Without looking, he struck out a hand, feeling a body beside him. Oh, he thought, did that really happen, or was it all just a dream? When he did actually look over at the body next to him, well, there was the evidence: Marie McMiller was laying on her stomach, sheets and blankets pulled up to her chin. Guess it wasn't a dream, Tamao smirked, then stood up to go the bathroom.

Minutes later he emerged again, gathering up his discarded pants. Quickly he slipped them on, then lit up a cigarette. His lightless eyes soon found their way to Marie's form, simply studying her still body and even breathing. Tamao couldn't help but recall the events of last night: the softness of her touch and voice, the subtle curves of muscled arms and legs wrapped around him. If you had told him a few months ago that he was going to end up sleeping with the little white girl next door to him – he would have fucking punched you. Now though, it didn't seem so odd.

The scent of cheap cigarettes wafted to Marie's nose in her sleep. With an aggravated groan, the girl awoke. She didn't want the sleep to end, it was so peaceful and relaxing in the arms of dreams. Throwing the covers off of her body, Marie sat up, yawning and stretching. Instantly she noticed Tamao, sitting in a chair off to the side of the bed. "Ohiyo," the girl yawned widely. (Morning.)

"Un," a puff of smoke escaping his mouth, "ohiyo." (Yeah, morning.)

At last, Marie stood up, ambling dazedly to the bathroom. God, she tested the stiffness in her legs and back, I need a bath. She was sore, and extremely tired from last nights happenings. Tamao watched her as she left the room, feeling lost at what to do or say. What do you say to someone you just had sex with? Because what's ease in the night always looks different in the morning light. He heard water running, surmising that she was drawing a bath. Moments later, he stood up, walking toward the bathroom.

Tamao opened the door slowly, peeking his head in. Marie was submerged in a gigantic tub, bubbles floating all around. Without invitation, he undressed, then joined her. Why the hell did he get dressed in the first place? The two sat across from each, not uttering a single word. She pulled her knees up to her chest, a small smile playing on her lips. "Nanka itte, Tamao." (Say something, Tamao.)

The boy grinned devilishly, then reached out for her. Laughing, Marie moved toward him, and he gently turned her around so her back was to him. He wrapped his arms around her body, laying his head on her shoulder. The scent of Vanilla and steam hung in the air in dense sheets, encompassing the two bodies in the bath tub. Tamao nudged the girl with his chin playfully.

"Nani?" Marie asked, her tone light and cheerful. (What?)

"Ara . . . maji de kirei na dane." (You know . . . you really are beautiful.)

"Usotsuki," her laughter echoed off the gaudy walls, "sono koto kyodai na uso bakkari." (Liar. That's a huge lie.)

"Iya, Marie wa mottomo utsukushii. Honto ni honki." (No, you're the most beautiful. Really, I'm serious.) He tightened his grip on her just a bit, nuzzling her neck.

"So desu ka?" (Is that so?)

"Atarimae dayo." (Naturally, that goes without saying.) It was only then did Tamao see the bruises, fingertip sized, littering her shoulders and arms. At first he didn't understand, but all at once it suddenly hit him. _He _had hurt her. Reflexively, he reached out, running a hand over each individual bruise. "Ikenne . . ." Tamao breathed heavily, angry at himself for doing such a thing. (Shit, I fucked up.)

"Eh?" (What?) Marie turned her head to the side, trying to get a glimpse of his face. But he was all ready laying kisses on her shoulders; his way of apologizing for his "brutality."

"Ome no dabokusho." (Your bruises.)

"Eh?" she repeated, looking down at her body. Huh, she thought, so I do looked kind of beat up. It was true, some of last night's escapades had gotten a little rough. Serizawa Tamao could be a gentle lover, then turn into a hungry beast on a whim. "Shimpai shinaide," she told him, turning around to wrap her arms around his neck, "daijobu dayo." (Don't worry, I'm fine.)

"Zettai?" (You sure?)

"Honto-honto, Tamao-kun," Marie giggled adorably. (Really, I'm okay.) But what she didn't tell him was that some of those bruises weren't his doing at all. That was something she usually didn't reveal about herself right on the spot.

"Ah, sokka." (I see.)

"Ne, Tamao?" (Hey, Tamao?)

"Hm?"

"Mo ikkai?" (Want to do it again?)

Well hell, he thought, completely helpless when it came to her request. She could probably ask him to go jump off a roof right now and he'd gladly do it. A naked girl in front of you had that effect. Like I said before, Tamao wasn't stupid, he eagerly jumped on her again. Marie giggled delightfully as they sloshed water all over the bathroom floor.

After the so-called bath, the rest of the day was spent lounging around the hotel room, raiding the mini fridge and watching cable. Marie really didn't want to go back home, mainly because school was the next day. **Groan **And Tamao was just happy being out of the tiny apartment he called home. Marie never told anyone, not even her best friends (Ruka and Kyoko) that Serizawa Tamao had spent the night in her room. Nor did any of their friends ask. While Ruka and Kyoko remained in the dark about everything, Izaki Shun and Takiya Genji had a pretty good idea of what "the King of Beasts" had been up to. That was sort of a given . . . there's no use beating a dead horse.

Jugatsu Nijunichi, Jidai Matsuri

October 22, Festival of the Ages

**Author's Note and Miscellaneous Crapola**

**Well, there you go kiddies, the end of Chapter Three. Did you like it? I liked it! Of course I liked it, I mean I did write it after all! (pats self on the back.) JK! I'm not quite sure if I'm happy with the way I described Tamao and Marie's love making scene. I tried not to make it too graphic, because I don't like porno-fics AKA Lemon/Lime crapola. But** **that's just me. **

**I love you all and hope you're having a good time delving into the midst of my epic drama. Please read and review, I would very much appreciate it. XOXOXO!!!**

**On another note, I've dropped little hints about what Marie's "hiding." Note that sometimes she disappears in a scene then comes back rubbing an arm her stomach. ;) Pay close attention because later on it will all make complete sense. And, no she's not a cutter or sort S&M freak. That would be a little creepy not to mention cliché if she did have that disorder. Actually – I'll tell you right now, she doesn't have ANY kind of disorders. :D Hmm...not much else to say, except - Ja Ne!!!**

**:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD**


	7. Ch 4 POINT 1 Eiyu Ni Akogarete

**Chapter IV.I**

**Eiyu Ni Akogarete**

**(Admiring the Hero.)**

**The Next Day At School . . .**

**Getsuyobi (Monday.)**

Marie was sitting at a Piano, carefully making notes on sheets of music with a pencil. Currently she was in the basement of her school, her secret hideaway between classes. It was dark and damp, the only light there coming from a few ancient lamps scattered about. There were two reasons why the girl came here: one, not many people knew about it so she could be left alone to brood, and two, a Mahogany Grand Piano (circa 1958) slept there. The doleful basement was like a nursing home for old, broken down Pianos, but a solace for Marie McMiller Sure, there were other pianos in the school - newer, better ones, but the particular one she was sitting at was her favourite.

Typically, she didn't play the Piano, Marie preferred stringed instruments. And, even then she wasn't much of a guitarist. In this case though it called for it. The Classical Music Appreciation teacher had the class studying concertos and sonatas from some of the greatest classical music composers. This sucks the Red Head pursed her lips into a tenuous line – a lot. Mostly because of her half-ass approach to the 88 Ivory keys.

To get in good with Mister Moriarty (the Classical Music Appreciation teacher AKA Old Iron Pants) most of the kids chose Mozart because that was Moriarty's favourite composer. What a cliched schmuck. She wasn't the type to be a kiss ass, most of the time, so she opted for Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The actual piece of music was simplistic in structure, yet always managed to haunt her mind for a long time after hearing it. Besides, it was about the only classical piece of music she knew.

There was a reason she didn't like the Piano anymore. Blame her Mother for that one. She had made Marie take lessons since she was two. Somehow her Mother got the inane idea in her head that playing the instrument was prestigious and character-building. Scratch, scratch, scratch, erase. . . Hunched over the paper, Marie epitomized the Phantom of the Opera exactly. Wrong, wrong, wrong, she thought, wadding up the first sheet in her hand then tossing it over her shoulder. Slamming her forehead down on the keys, a clamorous sound filled the quiet room. There were just certain parts of the piece she couldn't remember, all the notes in the world couldn't help.

The echoes died away slowly, leaving the space still – silent. You could have heard a pin drop. Heaving a huge sigh, Marie jerked back up, poising her delicate hands over the keys. Then . . . the beauteous, eerie melody of Moonlight Sonata crept over the walls. There was no space for anything else, not in her head, not in the room, not anywhere.

Almost as quickly as it began, the music ceased to be. A deafening silence took the melody's place. Slow, deliberate clapping replaced it soon after. Startled, Marie whipped around toward the door. "Oh," she said dryly, "it's you."

"That's not very polite," Miyamoto Kenichi chuckled gleefully. Miyamoto Kenichi was the resident genius and "hottie" of the school. But Marie being Marie thought he was great, narcissistic poof. He was incredibly tall, slender, and lengthy Onyx hair framed his feminine facial features. God, Marie rolled her eyes, then turned back around, it really gets annoying how every guy is prettier than me. What the hell? "You know," Kenichi lazily strolled toward her, "you have _some _talent, when you try."

"Nobody asked you – Fancy Pants," Marie smirked, then knocked the sheets of music to the floor with a dramatic sweep of her hand. The boy leaned against the Piano, chuckling once more. She had dubbed him Fancy Pants on first meeting the "annoying git." Kenichi always walked (more like pranced around like a nancy boy) in perfect tailored suits. Marie was just glad he didn't go with a bow tie. Kenichi in turned referred to her as:

"Okay," he patted her head condescendingly, "Akaki-Chan." (A mixture of Aka meaning Red and Gaki meaning shorty.) Her eye threatened to twitch upon hearing that nickname, but she pretended it didn't bother her. It wasn't the nickname itself that was irratating, because she was used to being called Red. It was just him saying it that really stuck in her craw. "Beethoven not working out for you?"

"It's Beethoven, what-do-you-think?" The girl sighed, feeling completely drained of all that caffeine induced energy she was infamous for. "He's everywhere I go, everywhere I look . . . god, I even dream about him."

"Are you still talking about Beethoven?"

"What's that suppose to mean?" Marie looked up at Kenichi, eyebrow raised curiously.

"You women . . ."

"Hn," she resisted sticking her tongue out at him, "you men – always with that bloody man-woman crap. What the hell, Ken?" He cocked a half grin at her, then pushed off of the Piano. Walking back toward the door, he paused before he got to the exit.

"Whatever's on your mind – whoever's on your mind, forget it. At least until this exam is over, and don't practice too hard. Come back tomorrow and practice, you'll do better. Trust me, okay." His voice always so condescending and all lilted with a know-it-all attitude, changed to somewhat kind and caring in a blink of an eye. Before he could take another step, Marie turned to look at him.

"Hey, Fancy Pants," she called to him softly, "you're all right sometimes."

"Ha," he scoffed, then waved over his shoulder, "coming from you, that's a huge compliment."

…...............................................

Marie was writing again, for the first time in a long time, she was actually sitting down and putting pen to paper. That was a colossal accomplishment for her, considering that she had had writer's block for about a year now. She was a song writer/poet, first and foremost, even before she was woman. In her mind at least.

Sometimes she compared herself to Hemingway, the rough and tumble drunkard, who wrote like a scruffy cad. Then there was Arthur Rimbaud, a man so eccentric and high most of the time on Absinthe, she couldn't help but think she had a little of him in her as well. Proud of her Irish heritage, Marie McMiller admired W. B. Yeats the most; she liked to think that Yeats was either her soul mate or she was a reincarnation of him. The Red Head burrowed her head over a composition notebook, scribbling bits and pieces of rhymes and prose more rapidly.

It had been almost a week since her and Tamao's "intimate" encounter, which made an often reappearance in her mind. His hands, she dreamily mused as she closed her notebook, I think I love his hands the most. They seemed to be boundless, tanned to an Olive colour like the rest of his body, and she adored their rough texture as he held or touched her. His hands alone told a story that delved deep into plots of battles won and lost. Truly, Tamao could make her quiver with just one stroke.

Shaking off the daydream, Marie rose from the kitchen table, padding her way to the coffee pot. Just as she pushed the on/start button, a knock sounded on the door. A velvety smile touched her lips, and she slowly walked to door taking her own sweet time. Carefully the girl smoothed down her hair, then straightened the Black wife-beater and baggy pajama bottoms she was wearing. It really was pointless though: her short tresses remained unkempt, her clothes endlessly crying out to be ironed.

Marie had been expecting Serizawa Tamao for some time now, but when she did finally open the door . . . actually setting eyes on him made her feel guilty somehow. Where the hell did that come from?! The two hadn't spoken since that Sunday last week, a lot of it was due to their vastly different schedules. But some of it was just plain awkwardness.

Tamao propped a hand on the door frame, flashing her a cheeky grin. Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, the boy flicked it off to the side "trying to be all bad ass and shit. What a schmuck . . ."

"Konebanwa, Marie," he drawled languidly, smoke filtering out with his words. (Evening, Marie.)

**NOTE: When they say Marie's name, it's not pronounced the usual way, it sounds like ****Mah-ii-eh.**** I don't know why I felt the need to tell you that, but I did, so there. Ha-ha-ha! ;)**

"Un, konebanwa," Marie was forced to grin at his actions. She opened the door wider, motioning with a hand, "Dozo." (Yeah, evening. Please, come in.) Swiftly Tamao swept passed her, a confident air lingering upon his shoulders. He soon found the couch, plopping down with a sigh, then propped his feet upon the coffee table. Dammit, she thought while closing and locking the door, he could have at least taken off his shoes. That was just plain rude. No one could ever accuse Serizawa Tamao of being kind and courteous, that would have been madness.

Marie turned to look at the boy, unable to get her body to move. All she could manage was a kind of oafish looking stance. The atmosphere swayed with heat, passion, and muteness. Just where did they stand exactly? There had been no formal promises or confessions, no "wanna be girlfriend-boyfriend?" That was just juvenile. They weren't kids anymore, but they were far from adults as well. Marie suddenly conjured up a scenario where she and Tamao were dressed in the typical sailor like school uniforms, and he was stumbling over his words confessing that he was in love with her. Absentmindedly the girl let out a loud scoff, finding it unfathomable.

"Eh?" Tamao turned his head slightly to glance at Marie. "Doshita no?" (What? What's wrong?)

" . . . uhh . . . betsu ni," she quickly stuttered, then tittered idiotically, "heiki, heiki." ( . . . nothing. I'm fine, really fine.)

"Marie . . . oide yo." (Come here.) Marie frowned, thinking that he was acting very un-Tamao like. Didn't he usually ooze assertiveness, along with that famous alluring smirk? None-the-less she managed to unglue her feet from the floor, ambling toward him. Cautiously, she sat down beside him, looking small next to the powerful youth. Normally, Serizawa Tamao was the shortest when he stood next to his friends and companions, but next to Marie he was giant. That stroked his ego like nothing else could.

Abruptly Marie interrupted the quietude by laying her head on his shoulder. Instinctively Tamao wrapped an arm around her shoulders and the two snuggled for a while. There were so many things that needed to be said – screamed to be spoken, per usual, they didn't come out. That was something Marie was terrible at; she could write you a river of sonnets or odes, but when push came to shove and true feelings and thoughts yearned to be told – her "Silver Tongue" stayed mute in her mouth. Sometimes she was more masculine than anything else. What else would you expect from someone who was raised for the majority of her life by her Father and typically had only guys as friends?

And Tamao . . . well, Tamao was a man after all, and like most men didn't even know where to begin when it came to expressing emotions. Maybe that was why he and Marie got on so well.

As if on cue, Tamao's hand slowly made the long trek down her arm to a breast. That must have been some sort of universal move-making thing. A boy and girl alone could only mean one or two things: he was going to inevitably cop a feel, or eat all her food. Marie closed her eyes, enjoying his touch once more. Swiftly, he turned to her, pushing her down on the couch. There faces were so close, each staring back at one another. Her eyes, Tamao thought, I could stare at her all day. Then, she smiled at him, those renowned Green eyes enchanting him even more.

Marie immediately noticed that he was searching her face for something, so she brought her arms up around his body, pulling him closer. She swung one leg up over him, adding a smirk as she felt how hard he was. Tamao groaned audibly, clenching his eyes shut. Damn her, he thought, she knows exactly how to push my buttons . . . He pulled back a bit, confusing the girl greatly. "Marie," Tamao huskily breathed, "so nano . . . oretachi daijobu ka?" (Are you . . . okay with us?)

Tenderly Marie stroked his cheek, peering up at him with kindness. "Mochiron, Tamao. Subete wa daijobu desu." (Of course. Everything is okay.)

"Sore kiite yokatta." (That's good to hear.) Then, the two teens fell into one another again. All that eerie awkwardness flew out the window, leaving two bodies that slowly became one. They made love again: on the couch, on the floor, and finally Tamao carried her into her bedroom. And there they stayed, surrounded by darkness, pillows, and the sweetness of each others bodies.

Tamao fell asleep first, Marie could hear his even breathing, steady and calm. Slowly, the girl turned away from him moving to lay on her stomach. As she closed her eyes, she recalled reading somewhere about how different sleeping positions could reveal your true personality. Apparently, sleeping on your stomach meant you were a dreamy person, brash, and hated criticism. What a silly thing to think of as slumber crept over you. But it was true.

Just as she was about totally succumb to the world of dreams, Marie felt an arm creep around her waist, pulling her backwards. Tamao, half asleep, pulled the girl closer to him, nuzzling her neck lovingly. "Ore no daze," he mumbled, then quickly went back to sleep. (You're mine.) Marie stifled a giggle, wondering just what the hell he was really thinking or dreaming about. Moments later, she too fell into the arms of slumber.

…..................................................

"Hey!" Ruka plopped down beside Marie on the sidewalk. "What're you writing?"

"Nothing," and Marie turned away so Ruka couldn't see the notebook. They were sitting outside of Aizawa's Groceries on the sidewalk. Marie had been patiently waiting on her friend to clean up so that they could go grab some coffee, but now she wished Ruka had never come out.

"It doesn't look like nothing," she made a grab for the book, "let me see!"

"Go away," Marie quickly jumped to her feet, her hand clenching around the precious item. Ruka smiled evilly at the Red Head, a devious plan coming into her mind. With a speed that Marie never knew Ruka possessed, she jumped to her feet as well, then snatched the book away. Never even pausing for a second, Ruka took off down the street, running as fast as her feet would carry her.

Just for a moment – Marie stared after her, then chased after the girl. "Oy!!!" Marie screamed, "Give that back, wench!"

"Never!" Ruka called back over her shoulder. Marie halted momentarily, breathing heavily. God, I need to stop smoking . . . Taking a few quick breaths, she started running after Ruka once more. This time she was more determined than ever, quickly gaining on the taller girl. Another minute ticked by, then Aizawa Ruka set eyes on two very familiar figures ambling up the street: Takiya Genji and Izaki Shun. Good.

Cunningly, the "R&B Goddess" darted behind the two boys, out of breath, and hoping that they would shield her. If she knew one thing about Marie, it was that she would either be monumentally pissed, or laugh her ass off. That depended on what day of the week it was. By this time though, Marie was going too fast to stop, so she barreled head first into a hard body, knocking them both over in the process.

"Oww," Marie groaned with afflictedness, then she felt the body beneath her. The girl came nose to nose with Izaki Shun. Her kohl rimmed eyes widened in utter shock. What the hell was he doing there? Genji and Ruka stared down at their friends, then averted their eyes. The compromising position the two lay in was just too priceless, but they didn't dare laugh aloud.

"Oh, sumimasen . . ." Marie finally muttered, scrambling off of Izaki. (Sorry.) Izaki dragged himself up after her, brushing off his clothes as he went. He was too annoyed to even muttered his usual "hn" at the moment. Why can't I go anywhere without running into her, he was baffled at her ever lasting presence. Ignoring the insane heat on her face, Marie wheeled around to glare at her so-called best friend. "Ruka!"

The notebook fell to the ground with slight flutter and Ruka inched closer to Genji. Rolling her eyes, Marie scoffed. Really, could Ruka make it any more obvious? Hurriedly, Marie grabbed her book before anyone could ask what it was. "Just so you know," the Red Head cocked a grin, "I hate you." The sweat drop that had been hovering over Ruka's head disappeared, so she stuck her tongue out at Marie. Then, another brilliant idea came to her; she practically dragged Genji off to the side, talking to him in a hushed voice.

This left Izaki Shun and Marie McMiller standing alone, looking sort of lost without their counterparts. It wasn't quite what they had had in mind when going out with their friends. For Ruka and Marie it was usually coffee and for Genji and Izaki hanging out at the bar/club. Not being forced to suffer a near stranger's company. Suddenly, Izaki turned to Marie, his face set with certitude. The girl took a step back, startled at the darkness she saw there. For a moment she contemplated whether or not she had done something _recently_ to cause such a reaction.

It wasn't a secret to Marie about the comings and goings of Suzuran at all. She lived next door to Serizawa Tamao, and naturally those sorts of things came up when they used to sit outside smoking and bullshitting with one another. To tell the truth, she never expected Takiya Genji to actually pull off the enormous feat that he had a few months ago. It was all mind boggling to her. Yes, perhaps once upon a time, she rather enjoyed fighting, it used to be a favourite past time. Now, Marie was the type of person who didn't fight without having good reason. So this perpetual war at Suzuran was just something she didn't quite get. Was it the war that was making Izaki look so on edge and on guard all the time? Was this the reason for that dark look he was giving her? Marie found that she was intrigued, a great deal more that ought to have been.

Just as Izaki opened his mouth to give the Red Head a clue as to what was actually on his mind, Genji and Ruka strolled back up. Oh god, Marie knew that look that Ruka was giving her too well . . . "No," Marie backed away step-by-step from the roughly gathered group, "no, no, and no." But she tended to give in when it came to Ruka's sad, puppy dog eyes. Curse Ruka and her warm Brown eyes, Marie inwardly smiled.

…..........................................

**Some Time Later . . .**

Zille's was the little coffee house that Ruka and Marie frequented. It wasn't an all powerful chain like Starbucks, a place Marie refused to step foot into by the way. And it helped that the coffee there was cheap, not to mention pretty damned good. Presently, Marie, Ruka, Genji, and Izaki were sitting at a booth in Zille's idly drinking. Not one for simple chit chat (though Tamao would swear she never knew when shut it) Marie was being forced to talk. To Izaki none-the-less. Ruka and Genji's embarrassment around one another was just too much for them to overcome just yet. But, Izaki and Marie _did_ have one thing at common: their abnormal loathing of Tokaji Yuji.

"So dane!" Marie damn near choked on her coffee from laughter. "Tokaji wa debu kao motte imasu!" (That's right! Tokaji does have a pig-face!) She was surprised that such a gloomy guy like Izaki could make such a hilarious statement.

The girl's chortling forced a rare twitch of lips on Izaki, he hadn't even meant it to be funny. For the first time in all the conversations Izaki had had with Marie, it was easy. Having Genji sitting beside him probably had a lot to do with that though. Verbiage came easy to the boy – if he was doing the talking with his fists. Now, he was kind of enjoying himself and not one beer or dartboard in sight. Amazing.

Suddenly Marie felt an urgent jab to her leg from under the table. That was the girl's secret signal when they needed that infamous restroom talk. From the sting of the poke, apparently Ruka really needed to talk to her. "Uh . . . Marie, toire ni ikimasho, ne?" (Let's go to the bathroom.)

"Ah, okay," Marie smiled across the table at the boys, then they took off. Once they were inside, away from prying eyes and ears, the Red Head turned to face her friend. "What the hell? You've been wanting to freakin' date Genji for like – oh ever. You've barely said two words to the guy."

"I know!" Ruka moaned pitifully. "I just clam up around him sometimes." She leaned over the sink, hanging her head shamefully. "Wait a minute," Ruka turned back around, crossing her arms, "what the hell's going on with you and Izaki-san?"

"Don't try to change the subject."

"I'm not, but you looked pretty cozy out there."

"Yeah, and monkeys fly out of my ass every morning. If you didn't notice, we were shit-talking Tokaji. Besides we had to talk, because you and Genji just sat there like prepubescent dorkwads. What the hell did you drag him here for if you were going to twiddle your thumbs the whole time?"

"Shut up. You're suppose to be my buffer, remember? Give me some encouragement for gods sake."

" . . .." Marie deadpanned: getting a compliment from the Red Head was just about as likely as those quote-unquote monkeys flying out of her ass. "Uh . . . you're pretty."

". . . you're an idiot. Anyways, whatever," Ruka looked in the mirror, smoothing down her flawless hair and inspecting her exquisite, unmarred face. Marie scowled at her, finding her best friend's preening irksome at the moment. When standing next to Ruka, or even Kyoko for that matter, she felt like an oafish midget. Damn them for not even having to try. Then, Marie smiled, ambling up beside the girl.

"Ruka," Marie laid a hand on the taller girl's arm, "Genji likes you, it's written all over his face. You could probably spill steaming hot coffee on him and he'd be all, oh, it's okay, I don't mind, are you okay?"

"That's stupid, he'd probably be pissed." But Ruka softly grinned, thinking that it was sweet of Marie for trying to give her confidence after all. "Thanks, though."

"Yeah, yeah, you know I'm your hero. And you owe me for making me double with you."

"How come I get the feeling I'm to regret that?"

…......................................

Ruka's place was the first stop as the four teens walked home, hers being the closest. When the time came for Genji and Ruka to say goodbye, it seemed everyone but Genji himself noticed that she wanted to be kissed goodnight. So the two stood there, strained words being exchanged – per usual. While Izaki elected to look away from the whole floundering scene, Marie openly stared at them. She lit a cigarette, grinning from ear to ear. Damn her, Ruka inwardly shook a fist, if she wasn't gawking like a 'tard . . . Genji might have grown a set.

Next was Genji, who turned left when they came to an intersection. He offered little of a farewell to them, just a slight nod. The Red Head rolled her eyes at his playing cool routine, then continued on her way. As they walked on toward her apartment complex, Marie clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. It was so cold, and once again she forgot to prepare for Japan's schizophrenic weather. After all these long years, one would think she'd know better.

Izaki kept an even pace with her, careful not to get too close. Yet, he couldn't stop his eyes from sneaking little glances at her pint-sized form. On the spur of the moment, Izaki stopped. Marie followed suit, turning around to face him. A deep breath escaped his throat, he shrugged out of his black pea coat, then held it out to her. "Hai." (Here.)

She blinked, not knowing exactly what to think of this surprising gesture. But she was too cold to ponder on it too much. Marie grabbed the coat, swiftly pulling it on, snuggling in to it cozy comfort. "Arigato, Izaki." (Thank you.) Nodding once, Izaki motioned for them to continue on with their trek home. Some minutes later they arrived at her apartment complex, coming to a stop outside the iron gates that enclosed it.

It was times like these that Marie really wished she was more of an interesting person. Maybe then she'd have something to say to him other than always feeling like a pest. She wanted to laugh at how he seemed to ride up on a White Horse just in the nick of time. Even if she hadn't really been in any _real_ danger, it was the thought that counted. "Izaki, mata" the girl turned to him, tugging at the coat, "arigato na. Ato de." (Thanks again, Izaki. Later.)

"Ah," he said in turn, "ja." (Yeah, later.)

Opening the gates to the complex, Marie briskly ambled up the stairs. The girl had a sudden urge to turn back, but she ignored it, forcing her feet to take two steps at a time. Izaki stared on after the girl, making sure she got into her home safely. A few moments later, he sighed, turned around, then began to walk back in the direction he had just came. He had never said a word about the fact that he lived in the total opposite direction of Marie. The boy tried to convince himself that it was out of sheer obligation that he walked her home, it being a rough neighbourhood and all. But it was more than that. Wasn't it? He lit a cigarette skillfully, sucking in the nicotine as if his life depended on it.

…....................................

Marie McMiller had just managed to drift off to sleep when a pounding came upon the door. The doorbell had been broken for weeks now, and she didn't know what was worse: the annoying chiming or incessant knocking. "Dammit it all to hell . . ." she yawned, rolling off the couch. She lazily as she made her way to the door, pulling down her Scooby Doo boxers as she went.

When she opened the door, the girl damn near had a heart attack at who it was. Not Serizawa Tamao (as she expected), not Izaki Shun (as she had hoped) but Bando Hideto. What the . . . An unlit cigarette dangled from the side of his mouth, making her marvel at how dangerously beautiful he still was. But that was all Marie thought about him, she could admire him from an aesthetic point of view. No unresolved issues or feelings emerged. She felt nothing for him any longer.

"Konbanwa," he greeted her, unable to hide the smirk in his voice. "Ja?" (Evening. Well?)

For a split second Marie was about to instinctively reply, come in, but then she regained her bearings over the astonishment at seeing him there. "Ie, isogashii." (No, I'm busy.) Her resolve was set in cement, about to close the door in his face, but Bando stuck out a boot clad foot ceasing her attempt. That pissed her off immeasurably, however Bando didn't really give a damn.

Before she could even think about uttering another word, he shoved her backward with a savage strength. Marie stumbled a few good feet, running into a table with a pot plant on it. Quickly, Bando shut the door behind him, neglecting to lock it. He turned his attention back to her, glaring with that perpetual disposition of fierceness.

If you thought Bando Hideto was the type of guy to just be fobbed off so easily, then you have no idea about how he really was. He wasn't an idiot, nor was he a spur of the moment person. Bando waited in the shadows, plotting, planning, and spying. Of course he also didn't like to get his hands dirty, so he relied on his minions and cronies for the spying. This made him well aware of all the coming and goings of his ex-girlfriend. You really didn't expect it to sit well with the leader of the Skulls to find out that Marie was, in his words, "slumming it with Serizawa Tamao." Did you? No, it ate him up inside, and now he was quickly discovering all those little excursions with Izaki Shun. Bando wanted to make her hurt – to suffer – like he was right now.

"Nani sama no tsumori?!" Marie jerked away from the table, taking a few derisive steps towards the boy. (Who the hell do you think you are?) Bando closed the distance between them, his hands crashing down onto her shoulders. He shook her harshly – once – twice, then wrenched the girl closer to his body.

"Mo?" he added a condescending chuckle to his inquiry. "Teme nani ka? Maiban chigau otoko to nete, hirogeru onna no suru koto!" (Me? What about you? You're acting like some sort of nympho sleeping around with all these guys!) Bando flung her backwards, and once more she ran into the the tiny table. Being totally caught off guard, Marie's reflexes failed her causing her to fall unceremoniously onto her ass.

Before the pain even had time to register in her brain from the cheap wood ramming into her back, Marie was on her feet. It was one of those rare times that her vision clouded with Red, her infamous Irish temper raring its unsightly head. She wasn't a good fighter, that was most certain, because she had gotten her ass kicked back in the day too many times to remember. But she had a killer left (sometimes right) hook, just ask Tokaji Yuji. No one hit her, no one – especially a man. So she wasn't about to let Bando Hideto stand there as if he owned her . . .


	8. Ch 4 POINT 2 Eiyu Ne Akogarete

**Chapter **

**Eiyu Ni Akogarete**

**(Admiring the Hero.)**

In a few wide strides Marie closed the distance between them, delivering a deadly left hook. Bando's head slightly moved to one side, the impact hardly affecting him at all. Sure, it stung, but he would never let on that it did. In the few seconds before Marie had actually decided to make any move, she had planned out a series of moves strategically. Therefore after the left, came a quick jab from her right aimed at his ribs. But he blocked that easily; if she had connected it probably would have winded him. Instinctively, Bando heaved back a fist about to give her a taste of her own medicine, but at the last minute his fist opened, and he slapped her harshly across the face.

The girl stumbled backward, surprised and angry that he chose to slap her. Some part of her subconscious would have preferred a fist fight, because a beating was something she could take and give. The two ex-lovers stood across from one another, Bando staring aghast at what he had done, and Marie looking down at the floor. Then, her body began to tremble, tears rushing from her eyes. But she wasn't trembling or crying from pain or hurt feelings – it was undiluted fury.

The only thought that occurred to Bando Hideto was: shit I fucked up. Did he really just hit a woman? In all his existence he had never done such a thing, nor had he ever intended to. It was simple, you don't hit girls, he'd seen his Father do that one too many times to his Mother. It was too quick for Bando to even see what was coming, he never dreamed that the clumsy girl could be so agile . . .In a Takiya Genji-like move, Marie flew at him, leaping into the air. A well directed fist connected with the boy's face, a tooth loosening in its wake. Then they were on the floor, girl atop boy, and she wailed on him much like she had the last time she had encountered Tokaji Yuji.

An unintelligible yell came from Bando as he flipped her over so he was on top now. It took all his strength to keep her arms held above her head, all his will power to keep her body pinned down with his legs. Marie struggled, trying everything she could think of to get him off, even making a move to bite his face. "Yamero!" he screamed, tightening his grip around her wrists. A dull pain swept across her arms. (Stop it!)

"Kutabare!!!" Was what she cried, a fresh wave of tears making her eyes shine brighter than ever before. (Fuck you!!!) "Get off, get off, I'll kill you, I'll kill you, I will!" Her voice the epitome of sincere indignation, clipped with a some what of a cockney hint.

….......................................

What the hell am I doing here again, Izaki Shun asked himself for the umpteenth time in the past hour. The last twenty minutes he had paced all around the outside of Marie's complex, his back hunched, and chain smoking wildly. James Dean would have wept with envy. He had come up with some sort of monologue about getting his umbrella and coat back from her. Yet no matter how many times he said the lines in his head, they still sounded pretty lame.

The Bronze coloured apartment numbers 707 glared at him as he walked up the stairs, seeming to taunt him more with each step. When he reached the top, that was when he heard a mass of shouting and clamoring from inside her home. His pace quickened, but when his hand touched the door knob a male voice wafted to his ears. Inclining his head closer to the door, he strained to make out the muffled words. Izaki had walked up to the tail end of the battle going on inside, only managing to catch Bando's "Stop it!" and then Marie's fervid cries of "Get off, get off . . ."

He never thought twice about it, a millisecond didn't even go by before he threw open the door. What he discovered was probably the most disgusting sight he had ever seen. The only things that ran through Izaki Shun's mind was getting Bando Hideto off of Marie. Then killing him. There really aren't too many things that a person can think of when they see such a scene as this one.

Bando never heard the door open, never heard the footsteps running at him. But he sure as hell felt it when Izaki hauled him up off the ground and slung him across the room. Bando fell backwards into the same pot planted table that he had shoved Marie into. The ill-famed leader of The Skulls barely had time to register who had just thrown down the gauntlet. But it felt like a brick wall had decided to grow a back bone. His leather adorned back hit the edge of table, sending jets of fire down his spine. Then he was on the floor again, Izaki holding him by the front of his jacket . . . then a fist barreled down into his face . . . again, and again, and again . . .

Izaki didn't even blink when blood spurted out of Bando's nose, he kept hitting him, his rage unyielding. Bando was dazed, yet not dazed enough to just sit back and take an ass beating. Even if he did deserve it. Marie was still on the floor unsure of whether or not this was really happening. The sudden tendrils of pain stretching from her arms to her that – yes – it was most definitely happening. Breathing raggedly, she heaved herself up just in time to behold the two boys locked together like enraged bulls. For many moments the girl merely stared on, appalled at was occurring right before her very eyes.

Izaki Shun normally, more or less would have been evenly matched by Bando Hideto, any other day of the week a fight like this one could have gone on for quite a while. Being fueled by a virgin animosity made Izaki twice as strong and crazy. A sharp knee to the solar plexus sent Bando reeling backwards, allowing Izaki to wrap his lengthy, calloused hands around his throat. A few moments of this stole the air from Bando lungs, giving Izaki the perfect opportunity to continue with fists to the face. Or anywhere else he knew would hurt the most. Both boys' weight on the table made the pot plant fall to the floor with a deafening crash, breaking into large pieces. This was followed by them crashing through the cheap ornamental table, yet Izaki never stopped. Until . . .

"Yamete . . ." Marie had finally managed to come out of her trance, realizing she had to put a stop to this. Both of her hands wrapped around Izaki's right arm, holding his fist back from doing any further damage. To Bando's mangled face or her apartment. As an after thought she added, "Kudasai." (Please, stop.)

But he didn't want to stop, he wanted to put Bando in the hospital or kill him or . . . Izaki let Bando's limp body slide to the floor. Marie glanced at her ex-boyfriend's form, bloody, bruised, but not quite broken. Disgusted, the girl turned away, shutting her eyes tightly. She still held onto Izaki, partly because she feared he'd just start all over again, and partly because she didn't want to feel his absence just yet.

Bando groaned feebly, still conscious, but just barely. Through black eyes, he peered up at _his_ attacker, then slowly pulled his sore body up off the ground. Izaki's first instinct was to jump right back into the action, but silken hands holding onto his arm told him not to – to just let it go. Bando and Izaki stared one another down for a long while, unblinking, scantly breathing. Finally, Bando spat out a glob of spit ridden blood to the side, then brushed past them. The door slammed closed, a resounding echo filling the room.

Calmly, Izaki turned around and it was only then that Marie realized that she was still holding him. Abruptly the girl jerked away, taking a few steps backwards. Slowly the fury was dripping away from his body, his breathing returning to normal. Still – he had no idea what to say now – what to do exactly. The entire monologue that he had prepared in his head for his reason being there was forgotten, his tongue hanging thick and dry in his mouth. Marie couldn't bare to look onto his dark face, so she averted her eyes, choosing to study the shabby Olive Green carpet instead. Izaki however couldn't look away from her diminutive form. He saw her shoulders shake, then her entire body, and it dawned upon him: she was crying.

And so she was, for the first time in what seemed like forever – Marie McMiller was crying. Not those torrid tears wrought of anger or even out of pain when she would cut herself in the cafe's kitchen accidentally. But they were genuine tears of sadness and impeccable despair. One of the strange and somehow endearing things about a man (well, most men) was that a crying woman in front of them could bring them to their knees. Izaki Shun was just such a man. In a few quick strides he closed the space that she had made between them. Then – his arms were around Marie, cradling her body against his.

Marie didn't react right away, she could barely even see straight from everything that had happened. The what ifs plagued her mind with a tenacious vigor; what if Izaki hadn't been there, what if Bando had . . . An uncharacteristic sob escaped her throat before she could think about swallowing it. All the veils of strength, the facade of "tough girl" fell to pieces in a matter of seconds. Marie lifted her arms up around the boy's toned body, succumbing to the protective embrace. Having someone comfort her merely made her cry even harder. In this moment of such feminine displays of tragical damsel in distress, Izaki felt an unknown feeling churn within him. "Shh," he rubbed her back softly offering the only comfort that he knew, "daijobu dayo. Ima owari dane." (It's gonna' be okay. It's over now.)

The two teens continued to stay in the embrace, Marie crying until she could weep no more. At long last the girl's will gave out and she slipped to the floor on her knees. Gently, Izaki followed her down, reluctantly releasing the hold he had on her. Immediately he felt a strange emptiness without her warmth. Marie looked up, meeting his eyes straight on for a change. Izaki's breath was literally taken away: he had never seen her eyes look more Green than now. Sadness, as strange as it was to say or think, became Marie. Izaki Shun would swear that he had never seen anyone or anything more beautiful than her at that exact moment. "Gomen ne," Marie briefly chuckled. (Sorry.)

"Eh? Doshita?" Izaki tilted his head to one side, unable to get a good read on what she was thinking – feeling. (Huh? Why?)

"Nan demo nai – kedo . . ." she trailed off, pondering that not only did drama follow her around like a cold you couldn't shake, but it rode upon her back. "Katsute aishiteta to omotte, atashi baka dakara." (Oh, it's nothing – but . . . idiot that I am, I thought I loved him once.) Marie felt lost, unsure of herself, which was a virgin feeling for her. This sort of feeling was most loathed but above that - she hated herself for being so weak.

Izaki couldn't help himself: he reached out, cupping her face with one hand. He eyed her curiously, searching her eyes for some sort of invitation. But she wasn't thinking of that right now, all she saw was sincere sorrow. Marie saw a true kindness carved into Izaki's shadowy countenance, for the first time seeing him for who he really was. He wasn't just the Rebel Without a Cause anymore, he was just boy at the moment. This kind of gentleness touched Marie deeply, and she was glad that he had been there for her.

He suddenly leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. The girl's eyes widened, unable to react to the action. Truthfully, Izaki had no idea just what the hell he was doing. What he did know was that there was Him and there was _Her._ That was all that mattered – existed in the world for now. Reality came crashing down around her ears, her hands came up between their bodies to push him off. It didn't take much force to move him, because some part of him knew that this was coming.

"Nani yate no?" she shook her head once, not understanding anything that was going on. (What're you doing?) The kiss was probably the most gentle kiss that she had ever received, full of warmth and actual caring. Serizawa Tamao had instantly popped up into her thoughts. Even as Izaki had had his lips to hers, as nice as it might have felt, Tamao was there. That made her feel extraordinarily guilty, and Marie abhorred herself for actually enjoying the feel of Izaki Shun so close to her.

Izaki wasn't stupid, he could take a hint. Yet again the girl had unintentionally made him feel low, as if she considered him nothing more than a speck of dirt beneath her feet. He stood up quickly, body going rigid with irritation not to mention disappointment. The boy was about to storm off, but Marie grasped his hand stopping him in his tracks. She stood up, standing slightly behind him. Her gentle touch disallowed him to move any further. His face tightened, a muscle in his cheek twitching. God, did she even know what a simplistic touch from her could do to him? Izaki's lips were still tingling . . . But, he was too much of a proud, hard headed man to tell her what was truly on his mind. Instead – Izaki threw off her hand. "Sawanai de," he breathed, holding back a slew of heated words. (Don't touch me.) Because he knew if he stayed any longer he'd probably unleash a flurry of heated words. Then he was gone from the apartment, the door slamming close with finality.

When Marie was certain she was alone, she sank back down to her knees. Her head was bowed low, feeling as if the weight of the world had decide to alight upon her shoulders. Bringing her hands to cover her face, she found that there were no more tears left to be cried. Did all that really just happen? Or was it all some sort of horrible nightmare – a strange reverie? The Red Head slowly uncovered her face, peering around her cramped apartment. No, not a dream, the broken table and uprooted pot plant were still laying lifelessly on the ground. The warm sensation left by Izaki's lips on hers remained there long after the sun came up and would remain there for quite some time.

**Author's Note and Miscellaneous Crapola**

**Well there you go, kids! Hope you had fun. I know it's short, but the chapters that I wrote out are extremely long, so it's kind of awkward when I have to section them off to post. Throughout the story I made references to other movies and interjected some of their essences into the story. So if you've picked up on any of them, well, then you have excellent taste because you watch the same movies as me. **

**I've been posting a chapter every week and a half to two weeks so be on the look out, and please review. I love you all, but I love Izaki Shun more, so there. LOL! Ja ne!!!**


	9. Ch 4 POINT 3 Eiyu Ne Akogarete

**Chapter **

**Eiyu Ni Akogarete**

**(Admiring the Hero.)**

"Wrong!" Mr. Moriarty slammed down the lid to the piano. Marie managed to move her hands out of the way just in the nick of time. Before last night, she had had Beethoven pretty much mastered, but in the end her notes fell flat and she forgot a huge segment. She hated this Classical Music Appreciation class more than anything right now. She would have rather been damned to the ninth level of Hell for all eternity than there at the moment. "Did you even bother to practice, Miss McMiller? Or were you too busy painting your nails black?" Of course that condescending question was rhetorical, so the teacher was gone before Marie could even come back with a cheeky reply.

Sighing, she stood up from the piano at the front of the room, returning to her seat as fast as her short legs would carry her. Most of the other students sent her sympathetic looks, but dare not say one word to her, they were just glad it wasn't them. Mr. Moriarty could silence a newborn's cries with just one harsh look; truly, the man was a slave master. He seemed to enjoy tormenting the students at the school and lord over everyone heads that he had played at Carnegie Hall before. Big deal, Marie would usually mumble when he did that, a fucking retarded monkey could play that white trash run place.

Marie opened up a composition notebook and began to doodle nooses and other murdering implements, thinking of a hundred ways how to kill her teacher. She winced when she heard Moriarty insult another kid, and thought, poor bastard. The minutes dragged by, making the class seem longer than it actually was. Just as her head was about fall, overcome by sleep, the bell rang. Quickly, Marie jumped up, the first one out the door.

Her next class was her favourite, hell, it was probably everyone's favourite that took it: Contemporary Studies. Literally it was a god-send for the Red Head, and she was glad that it came after that hell hole she had just been in. Other than the basement, it was the one place at the school that she really felt at home. As soon as she swept in through the door she was hailed by a fine mist of cigarette smoke and a small group of boys at a table at the back of the room. Yep, this was that just show up and pass class. Marie smiled for the first time that day at seeing her friends, including "Mr. Fancy Pants."

The students here, on different levels, were much more mellow than all the other kids who went to this school. Most of the people who attended the music school were uptight, rich kids, who had never had to work a day in their life for anything. Marie hated those type of people. As she slid into her usual seat, she took the time to look around the classroom. Like any other high school, there were tiny, precise groups gathered at individual tables.

First, the indie/artsy/rocker types, all dressed in simple black from head to toe. Marie thought they were a little too Emo for her desire, always carrying around an acoustic guitar and writing about chicks/dudes that had broke their hearts. Next, the visual kei/goth/hard rock kids, who looked as shocking as ever. Looking at them was like looking upon a menagerie of hair colour, piercings, and tattoos. Then, there was the Miscellaneous group of kids who had a more eclectic taste and didn't seem to need to shout at the world by dressing up. If it was clean or at least smelled clean– they wore it. Lastly, Marie and the three boys seated around her . . . they were the Power Pop/Punkers of this class.

Well, Miyamoto Kenichi didn't quite fit in with them dress-wise, but all the same he generally liked what they liked. He and his tailored suits contrasted vastly with their usual band shirt and jeans. Marie settled into her seat actually relaxing for the first time that day. Pulling out her notebook, her doodling abruptly altered from torture instruments to a set of opaque eyes. Let's make one thing clear: she knew she wasn't a very good artist, but once in a blue moon, when the right subject came along, the girl couldn't resist to give it a shot. After sometime passed and the eye took on the outline of a round face and light coloured hair, a sharp poke came from her side.

"Ow!" Marie immediately stopped sketching, turning her head to scowl at Endo Takeshi. The boy gave her one of those retarded shit-eating-grins of his, then winked suggestively. The Red Head studied him long enough to surmise that the black t-shirt he was wearing was new. In huge, neon Pink letters it stated "Hey Ho, Let's Go!" Then she went back to her notebook, ignoring him completely.

"Hey," he poked her again, "hey – hey – hey!"

"Jesus Christ eating a hamburger, what the hell, En?!"

"What're you drawing?"

"None of your business," Marie mumbled, then covered the paper with her arm. Damn, why the hell was everyone obsessed with what was in her notebooks? Nosy ass people. Endo's grin broadened manically. In a swift jerk, he pulled the book from under her arm and flipped through it speedily. Shrugging, Marie let it slide, it wasn't like Endo would know who the guy in the picture was anyway. In reality, she was too exhausted to cause a big fuss over it.

"Hey," Endo looked up from the page he had been reading.

"What now?"

"This is good," he nodded appreciatively. Marie looked over at him, then did a double take. The lanky, ebony haired boy was reading one of her sonnets.

"Not really," she shrugged, shuffling her feet under the table. Her wan countenance flushed a little, embarrassed at the compliment. Compliments weren't necessarily something she was good at taking (or giving), they were more uncomfortable for her than anything else.

"Let me see!" Aoki Takashi yanked the notebook away from his best friend, quickly flipping to right page. A minute or two later he looked over to Marie, eying her carefully. That made her blush even more, so she averted her eyes. "He's right, it is kind of good." If that was suppose to be a compliment, inner-Marie pulled out a pair of anger veins, it's a fucking ass-backwards one.

Marie blew a short strand of hair out of her face, turning her gaze toward Kenichi. She expected him to be smirking or wanting a turn at her writings, but instead she found him snoozing, looking as gorgeous as ever. Of course the large dark designer sunglasses he was sporting made him look sort of apathetic, hiding the fact that he actually was asleep. Chuckling to herself, Marie reached out and flicked his nose harshly. Instantaneously, the towering, broad shouldered boy sat up with a start, stuttering a slew of unintelligible words. "I wasn't sleeping," his tone was even and annoyed.

"Yeah, okay," Marie rolled her eyes, "you have drool on your chin."

"I do not," but none the less, he wiped at his face to rid the evidence. Adjusting his designer sunglasses, he lounged lazily in his seat. Suddenly, Aoki thrust the notebook in his face. Kenichi peered around it, totally befuddled.

"Read it, jack ass," Endo ordered, adding a sneer for good measure. He was the spitting image of Sid Vicious for the moment. Inordinately pale, tall, and in Marie's opinion "ten times prettier than me." What the hell was with all her friends being absolute knock outs anyway? The ugly head of envy popped up from time to time, yet the girl managed to humble herself because even if they were gorgeous, they were pretty decent people.

Kenichi took the book, reading it not once – not twice – but three times. When he finished, the boy jerked his head up shooting Marie a peculiar look. "It's not bad." Scoffing, Marie lit up a cigarette, wanting nothing more than to slap all three boys. A lot.

"Hey, Marie?" Aoki blurted, nearly jumping up and down in his chair. "What're you doing for the exam?"

"Hmm . . ." honestly, she hadn't really thought about the exam that was coming up. It was the only thing that Mr. Watson (Contemporary Studies Teacher) demanded that his students do. While each semester was spent dilly dallying and lazing about, when it came to the end of a semester – Mr. Watson didn't mess around. "I don't know, probably something acoustic."

"Bor-rr-ing . . ." Endo leaned back in his chair, "everyone's doing acoustic."

"Okay, Mister Guitar Hero," Marie stuck her tongue out at him teasingly, "what're you doing?"

"Uh . . ." Endo went flaccid, eyes as wide as saucers. Then he played it off, "none of your fuckin' business, slag. I don't want you copying me and shit."

"Whatever," Marie blew a strand of stray hair out of her eyes, "fucking clown shoes, En-chan."

"Don't call me En-chan, cunt!"

"Don't call me cunt, En-chan!" And so a slew of other very colourful expletives ensued, ending with Marie putting Endo into a head lock and Endo tapping out on the table.

"Geez, you'd think they were married or something," Aoki rolled his eyes at their perpetual banter.

"Or at the very least fucking," Kenichi added, chuckling delightedly.

Succinctly Marie and Endo jumped apart, aghast at even the thought. Then they said, "That's gross." The two shot each other death glares, hating that they had voiced the same exact thought.

"You know . . ." Aoki drawled, a smile stretching across his countenance, "we could just do a band."

"Oh, god – here we go again," Marie mumbled, slouching down. Ever since meeting these guys they had been drowning her with ideas of starting a band. That just wasn't her kind of thing. She always thought that if she was forced to practice or consider music a job, then it would ruin it for her. Kenichi who was usually on the same page as her when it came to this subject actually spoke up.

"We could."

"Not you, too . . ." Marie groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"You're actually a good writer, and your voice isn't _too_ terrible to listen to."

"Gee," she sat up directly, back straight for once, "thanks." Damn, she thought, they need to learn how to give a compliment, bloody sods. "You always have a marvelous way of lowering my self esteem."

"Oh, come off it," Kenichi finally removed his sunglasses, "if your ego got any bigger, you'd never be able to walk out the door."

"You're one to talk, Fancy Pants."

"Tch . . .this isn't about me, this about you. If we did a band, we'd be the only ones doing so."

"He's right," Endo said in a sing-song voice, "points for originality and stuff."

"We could do copies, though. Asian Kung-Fu Generation, right?" Aoki leaned over the table.

"No, Balzac," Endo countered.

"Gacktu," Kenichi declared.

By this time Marie was essentially fuming: they had just so readily decided for her. Without even getting the okay from her no less. She could have hit them at the moment, but was too drained to really do anything else but ponder . . . One by one they had stated their preferred band, and one look at the way each of them dressed you could tell such a thing.

"You guys are such tools," Marie smirked gently.

"What?!" Endo yelled, a murderous look entering his eye. "You take that back – you – you . . ." But before Endo could think of the most revolting racist insult, the girl acquiesced to all of the badgering.

"All right, let's do it." It was sort of a whim on Marie's behalf, because she truly didn't have an interest in that DYI band kind of thing. Chop it up to simplistic boredom, perhaps having nothing better to do, or maybe even some sort of secret longing to belong to something . . . whatever the reason was, the Red Head decided to rush in head first. "No copies though. And even if we were to do copies it'd have to be Blue Hearts – hands down. That being said . . ."

"Shut up," Kenichi snatched her notebook away from her again. "No one wants to hear another long, boring speech. Especially from you Akaki-chan." He began to flip through the book, scanning it wildly looking for something that could be worked into a song. A few minutes later he stopped toward the end of the book. It was a newer piece from Marie, he could tell from the different colour of ink from all the other writings. Not only that but, "Romanji?" It was the only thing in the book that was written in Japanese.

"Yeah, well . . . you know my . . ."

"Her Kanji sucks." Ah, Aoki, ever the most articulate when describing someones short comings. Biting her tongue yet again, Marie refrained from rising to the bait.

"This is new for you," Kenichi admonished, slowly nodding, "you actually sound like a girl. A heartbroken girl at that."

"Are you trying to make me change my mind about this whole bloody business, or are you just trying to piss me off."

"No, no, not at all," he smiled warmly at his friend. "I think we can work with this . . ." So the rest of the class was spent arranging the lyrics so that there was actually some lucidity to it. Probably one of the reasons that no one else was doing a band was that you had to go the extra mile and get a gig at a public place. That could be difficult if you really thought about it, but Kenichi could usually charm the pants off of anyone – man or woman, it didn't matter. Needless to say a song being based off of a prose poem probably wasn't the smartest idea to use for a final exam. Having four musical geniuses put their heads together on it could produce great things. However, the time frame that they had to work with was an entire different story.

…......................................

Two weeks. The four teens had two weeks to arrange the song, practice, and perform it. And if you knew anything about music or being in a band, two weeks was hardly enough time. Not to mention the fact that song wasn't even completely finished, or the fact that Kenichi had cut out the best parts of her lyrics.

The preparations for the exam preoccupied most of Marie's time and thoughts, so it left her rather absent from her other friends lives. It made the girl feel kind of guilty at having to turn down Ruka and Kyoko when they wanted to hang out. Her days were filled with school, work, and practice, which left the Red Head drained completely. Then there was Serizawa Tamao . . . she hadn't seen or spoken to him in at least two weeks. That just hurt. And less she forget Izaki Shun; God knows what that bloke was up to or thinking. There was no denying that it stung.

As if fate had decided to cue awkward happenings, there came a knock on the door. Heaving a grand sigh, Marie rose to answer it. Naturally – it was Tamao. "Konebawa," she greeted, apprehension evident in her voice. Opening the door widely for him, she motioned with a hand, "Dozo." (Evening. Please come in.)

Tamao nodded in an apathetic greeting, then brushed past her into the apartment. He immediately felt out of place, the atmosphere seemed to drop to an abnormal frigid temperature. It disturbed him a great deal, but he let it roll off his shoulders smoothly. Marie walked over to a beat up wooden cabinet, pulling out a large bottle of Jack Daniels. When she turned back around, Tamao had all ready plopped down on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table. "Ne, Tamao, issho ni nominai?" (Hey, Tamao, let's drink together.)

"Ah," Tamao cracked a grin at her curious choice of words. (Yeah.) Hearing her use such cheesy lines always made him laugh. The girl grabbed a couple of shot glasses, then joined him on the couch. It was then, while drinking and talking about nothing in particular that Tamao realized, "It's not the same. Everything's going to change soon."

After a while of drinking, when half the bottle was gone, Marie unburdened herself. As much as that may have been selfish of the girl, there was no use dancing around a subject or making idiotic excuses. It wasn't that she had suddenly stopped like Serizawa Tamao nor did she hate him, but after that night with Bando the thought of anyone touching her or even being with someone made her ill. Marie had come to the conclusion that she just wasn't meant to be with someone, truthfully she thought she wasn't capable of making a relationship work. Hell, she was barely able to keep friends, having a boyfriend was an accident waiting to happen.

Through it all, Tamao listened, neither angry nor happy. He wasn't all that surprised, because he knew that whatever the two of them shared wasn't going to last forever. Was it love? They'd never know now, yet it was really nice having someone care about you and vice versa. Marie and Tamao were friends before they were lovers, and they'd be friend long after.

It did surprise Marie though, how Tamao was reacting to it all. He took it much better than she anticipated, but maybe being a tad bit sloshed could have dulled their senses. The two talked a while longer, finishing off the bottle, and avoiding the touchy subject of their whirlwind romance. That subject would more than likely never be breached again. And pity the fool who ever think about saying anything about it. You'd end up with a mangled face if you tried.

Long after Tamao was gone, Marie sat awake in bed, writing furiously. Thought after thought seemed to magically appear on empty pages, astounding the author most of all. She couldn't remember a time when she had had so many ideas – so many things to say. So much in fact that it filled an entire notebook, forcing her to dig up a new one. Sometime before dawn the girl fell to the arms of sleep, and that night the slumber was deep and peaceful.

Juichigatsu Jugonichi, Shichigosan

November 15, Children's Shrine Visiting Day

**Author's Note and Miscellaneous Crapola**

**Alright, alright, the end of chapter Four has arrived. I hope you enjoyed reading it. It sort of made me sad to end Tamao and Marie's relationship, because in my mind – they could have loved one another completely. But perhaps I'll write another story where Tamao ends up happily ever after with someone. :D**

**Let's see . . . I mentioned a few more of my favourite bands in this part of the chapter. So if you don't know, Balzac is a hardcore punk/hard rock band and I suggest you listen to their songs _The Silence of Crows_ and_ Inside My Eyes._ In my opinion those particular songs epitomize the vibe of the Crows Zero movies. If you want to know what Endo Takeshi looks like, then go look up some pics of Balzac because I kind of modeled the character after those lads. Asian Kung-Fu Generation is another one of my faves, a sort of blend of power pop/emoish songs with really powerful guitar rifts in most of their songs. For first time listeners I suggest _Rocket No. 4,_ _Konayuki_, and _Unmei_. The character Aoki Takashi is based of these guys. And last but not least Gacktu-sama. Hopefully you're not so beyond the times that you don't know who this bloke is, because he's like the David Bowie of Japan. (And that makes Larc-en-Ciel the Queen of Japan, hahaha.) Now you should be able to imagine what Miyamoto Kenichi looks like, think a younger Gacktu-sama. On another note I'm not spelling Gacktu wrong, because it's pronounced Gacktu (emphasis on the U) don't say Gack, because that's lame. **

**Please read and review to show your love and support! I love you all from this life to the next! Ja ne soshite kiotsukete ne! (See ya' later and take care!) **


	10. 5 PNT 1 Mirai Wa Bokura no Te no naka

**Chapter V. I**

**Mirai Wa Bokura No Te No Naka**

**(The Future Is In Our Hands.)**

Well, Marie thought as she downed her third shot of Jack Daniels, there goes another job. First, you should know finding a job in Japan (especially when you're the Foreigner) could be quite the task. In fact most teenagers didn't go out and get a job. They went to school, busied themselves with studies, clubs, and complete dullness. Marie was not the social butterfly type, never voluntarily raising her hand to answer a question, or participating in any clubs/after school activities. Let's just call her anti-social and leave it at that. So you really couldn't expect her to participate in any of the above.

The cafe that Marie and Kyoko had worked at had closed it's doors at last. Simplistically, they just couldn't compete with the bigger, fancier cafe/coffee houses. Currently, Kyoko and Marie were inhabiting a table at the local Punk Club, waiting for Ruka to finish up with some things backstage. Whilst Kyoko opted for water and soda, Marie chose to drown her sorrows in a glass of warm Whiskey. For the moment the Club was empty, devoid of pogoing (official Punk dance) bodies and gyrating hips; it was so quiet it could have been mistaken for a library.

"Ne!" Ruka exclaimed as she waltzed up to her friends and sat down at the table. "Looking forward to your gig?" Marie squinted her eyes over the lip of her glass, the only answer she was prepared to give. It wasn't exactly that she was dreading the entire ordeal, but as the date grew closer more and more butterflies churned in her stomach.

"I can't believe you decided to go through with it," Kyoko commented dispassionately. She unscrewed a bottle of water, finished the last drop, then began to play with the top. All in all, the girl appeared to be uncaring about Marie announcing out of the blue that she was going front a band.

"_I _can't believe,"Ruka added, "that you let those guys talk you into it."

"Hn." Marie repressed an urge to flip them all off. The Red Head slammed her stubby glass down on the table, ready for a refill. On cue, Oshiyama-san ambled up to the group of girls, bottle in hand. Well, he was the bartender after all, so what else would he tote around? She reached out for it, but he jerked it back just out of her reach. "Ome, nani yo?!" (What the hell?!)

"Mo nomu no yametara," Oshiyama-san suggested, kindly smiling down at her. "Haya sugiru, na?"(Maybe you should stop drinking, it's kind of early, huh?) Though usually a sleepy (sometimes funny) drunk, Marie could be a real douche when she wanted to be. Alcohol or no alcohol.

"Damare – Jiji." (Shut up – Old Man.)

Scoffing, the Bartender told the girl, "Yashiikunai." (That's not very nice.)

"Hai, hai, hai," Marie spoke in rapid succession, then stood and bowed low dramatically. "Jacku ima motte koi." (Give me the Jack now.) As an obnoxious after thought, she decided to add, "Ku-da-sai." What a cheeky little monkey . . .

"Oh . . ." Ruka's eyes widened considerably, alerting them all to something going on, and not just Marie making a buffoon out of herself.

"Eh?" Marie turned her head to where her best friend's eyes were trained. Kyoko followed suit, her eyes widening as well.

"Oh . . . " Kyoko and Marie simultaneously aped. Oh, crapola, is more like it, Marie thought. The short girl grimaced, inwardly _and_ outwardly. One after another GPS filed in, looking as if they owned the damned place. Thereon, Ruka beamed with girlish delight, her lovely countenance glowing with true adoration. Kyoko and Marie in the meantime looked like they wanted to slit their own throats – or barf, whichever came first. Marie hastily sat down, grabbing the bottle from Oshiyama's hand, turning her back to all of GPS.

A little while ago, Izaki Shun had cleared things up with Kyoko. On this rare occasion of actually being confronted with someone confessing to him, he was gentle and direct about professing that he didn't like her like that. Even with all the niceties of the world, Kyoko had still gotten her feelings hurt. As for Marie . . . well, you all know how that went.

Unexpectedly, Kyoko rose, jostling the table as she went. Marie struck out her hands, grasping her cup and bottle of Jack Daniels tightly. Wouldn't want to waste any of that precious alcohol, now would we? "Sorry," Kyoko quickly did a clumsy bow, "I – I forgot to water my Peonies." And there went Kyoko, rushing out the back exit as fast as her long legs would carry her. Geez . . . Marie cocked a haughty half smirk, what a lameoid . . . When Izaki had turned Kyoko down, it was Marie who had sat up with her into the late hours of the night. It wasn't that Kyoko didn't want to bemoan and rant to Ruka about how stupid boys were, or how they always manage to irk you when all you want to do is just sleep. It was more like Marie McMiller happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Marie – ever the eloquent lady – guzzled humongous gulps of Whiskey as if it was going out of style. She was going to need it: the boys were swiftly heading toward their table. If she ever wanted to actually utter a word in Izaki Shun's presence again, Marie figured she better fill up on the Jack D – and quick. Goku, goku, goku . . . ahh, the rude sounds of slothfulness . . .

"Uaa!" Chuta goggled at Marie as the Quartet came up to their table. "Saki tsuyoi na!!!" (Wow! You can handle your drink!!!)

"Eh?" Marie pulled her mouth away from the bottle long enough to slur an acknowledgment. "So dane." (Huh? I guess so.) Setting down the bottle off to the side, the girl hiccuped – paused – then hiccuped again. Chuta and Makise shot one another a "look" then guffawed at the Red Head.

"Ah, hisashiburi dayona," Genji nodded in Ruka's direction. (Long time no see, huh.) She smiled brilliantly at the Apple of Her Eye, which elicited a soft blush on Genji's face. The boy turned his head away, desperately hoping Ruka hadn't noticed. Tough luck, lover boy – she did. And the R&B Goddess reveled in it. "Uh . . . ma - nanka kawatta koto ata?" (So, what's been going on?)

"Uunn," Ruka shook her head, "betsu ni nani mo." (Nothing much really.)

"Nomushite!" Marie loudly cried, her diminutive body swaying for a moment. "Ome wa?" (Drinking! And, you?)

"Ah, Street Beats."

All the while of the tense conversation, Izaki stood much like a statue slightly behind Chuta and Makise. He attempted to keep his stormy gaze on anywhere but Her, but that was quite the task. All he ended up doing was landing right back on a mess of Flaming Tresses. Not only did his eyes burn with the vision of Marie McMiller, but his lips tingled; the kiss singed his memory.

"Ikanakucha!" Marie pronounced, jumping up from her seat. (I have to go now!) She wobbled, slightly inebriated. Her back blistered from _His_ stare, the girl feared she would be reduced to ashes if she remained there. But actually getting up, walking out the door, and going home was whole other story. Marie put one willful foot forward, ready to waltz out of the club . . . yeah, good luck with that . . . She teetered to one side, instinctively reaching out to brace a fall. What she grabbed wasn't the table or even a chair . . . Izaki Shun – naturally.

Izaki without thinking grabbed her arms, holding her body in place. Clutching his shirt, Marie peered up at the Blonde boy. For these two beings – time stopped and the scenery faded into a shadowy essence. There was Shun and Marie; for the first time, for reasons unknown, there were no awkward feelings.

Four identical looks of "what the . . ." radiated from Ruka, Genji, Chuta, and Makise. They had an ideal profile view of the couple. And obviously there were quite a few unresolved pending issues from these two people. Just when the hell did this happen? To their knowledge, Marie and Izaki hadn't really spent a lot of alone time together. Yet the longing gaze that they were sharing right now said that there had been something brewing for quite some time.

It was only a few seconds in each others arms, but Marie would swear it had been a life time. In Izaki Shun's orbs there was life – there purity – and most of all honesty. _ . . . has he always been like this . . ._

"Atama ga fura fura," Marie muttered, jerking away from the safety of strong arms. (My head feels dizzy.) "Ja ne." She turned from the group, slowly fumbling her way to the door. The girl was tipsy, but not so drunk that she couldn't walk back home. There was no way her pride would allow her to ask anyone for help.

When Marie was gone, a strong air of tautness wafted through the club. Brushing it off, the group of boys joined Ruka at the table. All except Izaki Shun; he lingered in his standing position, his usual brooding look stamped upon his face. Makise Takashi freely alternated his staring from Genji to Izaki: _how come everyone gets a girl but me? _

…..........................................................

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Eh?" Marie dropped the microphone onto the floor, surprised at the abrupt cease of music. She pulled out an ear plug, turning to face Miyamoto Kenichi. It was he who had so rudely ceased playing, interrupting their practice.

"You just missed the chord progression," Kenichi continued, "and you forgot an entire segment of lines."

Marie bit the inside of her cheek, blushing heavily from embarrassment. She had hoped no one had noticed that. Leave it to Kenichi to point it out so rudely. Ponce. Endo groaned inwardly, unplugging his guitar and leaned it against a chair. He shot Aoki a "here we go again" look, then sat down in a chair. It was like pulling teeth when you got Kenichi and Marie into a room together. As much as Endo liked to jab at Marie, trying to provoke her into a friendly snark, Kenichi fought with her twice as much. And his jabs could be razor sharp, having some truth behind his insults.

The make shift band had been practicing for hours in the basement of their school today. All were tired by now, and easily irritable. But it was Marie and Kenichi who had been fighting like cats and dogs all day. Aoki and Endo decided it was because both had inflated and egos, so they clashed violently more often than not. The Drummer and Guitarist were silent spectators to their buffoonery, finding most of it funny, and the rest just outright annoying.

Loudly sighing, Kenichi removed his Bass Guitar. He faced Marie directly, then asked, "What? Is singing in Japanese too hard for you or something?"

"No," Marie grumbled, plopping down on the floor ungracefully, "I'm just – fatigued. That's all."

"Yeah right," Kenichi rolled his eyes at the girl for the umpteenth time that day. He liked to think that he was a pretty good judge of character, and could read people as well. And so it was true: he could read Marie like he was reading a newspaper. "How do you always manage to step off into it?"

Kenichi's colloquialisms not withstanding, Marie wondered the exact same thing It wasn't that she couldn't sing in another language, though it was quite the feat when being used to listening to songs in English. The problem was that Marie was feeling more and more like her life was a bloody musical. She expected her friends to burst out with song and dance, prancing around talking about lost loves present feelings, or random inanimate objects. Hell, she very well could have joined in in that particular musical.

"You're thinking about a guy." Kenichi sadly chuckled, shaking his head like a disappointed Father. He had seen the Red Head fall in and out of love then brush it off like it was nothing. Marie had a peculiar way of showing that she liked someone. She didn't fall all over herself like a typical simpering woman, to which Kenichi was somewhat thankful. He shuddered at the thought of seeing anything but a trash talking, rough and tumble Marie McMiller.

"Huh?" Marie was puzzled once again. _How and hell can such a wanker know exactly what I'm thinking about? It's not like I'm in love with Him or anything. Stupid James Dean wanna' be . . ._

"You're in love with someone. It's written all over your face." The feminine faced boy smirked widely, reveling in the outraged look on her face. He knew what buttons to push, and normally he liked to push a lot of buttons.

"Whatever," Marie rose from her spot, "can I go home now?"

The good humour rushed out of the room with the appearance of a severe look spreading across Miyamoto Kenichi's exquisite face. "Look," his voice low, full of brimming rage, "I don't really care if you're in denial or what, just don't fuck this up."

"You know what?" Marie paused momentarily so she wouldn't unleash that infamous temper of hers. She was used to Kenichi's sharp words by now and they really didn't inflict any pain on her whatsoever, but this time it was a bit different. "You're pushing all this on me. How come it's me that has to take up the slack. I'm not the only fucking person in this band. Is this because I'm White?"

"Oh fuck you, pal!" Kenichi puffed. "Don't pull the race card. That may work with everyone else, but you're a god damned imbecile if you think I'm going to let your laziness run things here. Do you really think I want to play the Cello for the rest of my life?" Okay, now he was pissed. He didn't really think that they had a chance in hell at becoming popular or some kind of big stars, but he didn't want to fail the exam. Or pass up the chance that maybe he'd be relieved of the pressure of becoming a professional from his parents. He didn't want to be stuck in those stuffy auditoriums that his parents were so fond of. They didn't even like classical music, they did it for appearances. As if going to those sorts of things was prestigious or something. "You may not care about yourself very much, but at least have the decency to think of your friends. Endo and Ando and yes – even me aren't in the mood to get thrown out of school."

"I'm sorry then - " Marie turned her back to the trio, her eyes burning with threatening tears. But she wouldn't allow herself to cry, not from being berated by Miyamoto Kenichi. Not in a million years. As she opened the door to the room, she paused, turning her head to look over shoulder, "I'm sorry I'm such a loser that keeps dragging you all down. I guess you can't count on me for anything, Miyamoto-sama, I'll only let you down." Ah, that dry sarcasm could cut you deeper than any sword ever melded

Marie swept out of the room, leaving no room for rebuttals or any further arguing. That was just the way she was, stubborn, willful, and just downright vindictive. The Red Head could pull a guilt trip like nobody's business. Kenichi shook his head, not even batting a delicate eyelash at his friend's actions. He knew now that she'd pull it together – even if it was at the last second. Hearing her choice of words, the long haired boy knew he had struck a chord. When he turned to Aoki and Endo, he found they were grinning ear to ear. He rolled his eyes at them, then they started to pack up their equipment.

….............................

Blood spurted from Izaki Shun's mouth as he took a punch to the face. It sent him reeling and he flew backwards onto slick, wet pavement. He propped himself up on one elbow, out of breath and uncommonly pissed off. It wasn't unusual for Izaki to end up in some sort of fight; there was always some bright eyed, bushy-tailed kid trying to prove their own worth. But this time it was different because Izaki had deliberately started this one.

Two abnormally large boys stood some feet away from him, sneering and partially amused. Hisato and Yusuke had been strolling down the street, minding their own business when along came Izaki Shun. They bumped into the stone faced Blonde and thus began the brawl. It all summed up to being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Izaki was in one of those infamous moods of his, the kind that screamed "don't fuck with me right now." It could have been anyone that Izaki chose to take his aggression out on – some part of him wished it had been Tokaji Yuji though. That would have been more entertaining at least.

Izaki dragged himself up off the concrete, facing his enemies straight forward. There could have been a hundred guys there right now, waiting to beat his ass, and he still would have pursued the fight. He never backed down, never gave in, and most off all – he never surrendered. Besides – this was what he had been looking for when he had stormed out of his house that night. Anything to take his mind off of pending matters . . . that being said, looking back on it, he could have chosen a couple of smaller, less bulky dudes to pick a fight with.

"Ome," Hisato nudged Yusuke, laughing loathsomely, "aitsu okama rashikunai? Kempatsu daikirai . . ." (Hey, don't you think he's kinda' faggoty? I fuckin' hate blonde guys . . .) Yusuke guffawed at his friend's comment, nodding in agreement. Izaki's face was unflinching in the wake of the insults, totally unaffected by the words. Then, he broke into uproarious laughter. Hisato and Yusuke gaped widely. What the hell? He should have risen to the bait all ready. All at once, Izaki went back to his statue like demeanour; he spat out a gob of blood to the side, reveling in the only the possible outcome. Without hesitation, Izaki Shun barreled toward the two huge men.

…..............................................

"Jesus Christ on a bicycle!!!" Marie flung a glass across the room. Coke and Whiskey danced in the air, raining down on the insides of her dingy little apartment. _My God, I've lost it, I've really really lost it this time. _Her head swam with a thousand gears, yet it was a dull throb of guilt that besought her so. There had been so many things she had done wrong – so many wrong roads that she had walked down. Ah, that priceless Catholic guilt that had been passed down through her lineage. Marie wondered why the people in her family, who never went to church on a regular basis (besides Aunt Marie who was an annoying Bible-Thumper) felt a need to go when something awful happened. That was just mind-boggling, because she'd given up going to confession and mass a long, long time ago.

"Fuck it," the Red Head snorted, then slammed down the cover to her notebook. All day there had been a steady drizzle, soaking all in its path thoroughly. Even so, Marie grabbed her black trench coat and (Izaki's) umbrella. She needed to walk, it didn't matter where, all that did matter was the sound of footsteps on the pavement. Teku teku, teku teku, teku teku (walking noise) . . . This was the sort of night she adored, just her and her shadow.

Some twenty minutes later and somewhere near Aizawa's Grocery the sky finally broke, letting loose the rain in droves. Buttoning her trench coat all the way up, Marie snuggled deeply into its many folds. She reveled in the iciness upon her flesh: not only did it make her feel tangibly alive but it allowed those rare occurrences of perspective. Unkempt, Scarlet tresses molded themselves to frame her face, turning Black with dampness. She swept past her friend's house unceremoniously, listening to the rain hit the streets. Za za, za za, za za (heavy rain) . . .

Then all at once BAAM!!! A huge, hard body ran into her, forcing her backwards. Marie stumbled backwards into a brick wall, squinting to make out what had just happened. Another body whipped past her, calling out to his partner, "Hayaku koko zurekaro, aitsu kichigai!" (Let's get the fuck outta' here, he's fucking crazy!)

Marie watched the pair run down the street as they disappeared into the thick blankets of streaming water. Turning her head toward the place where they had come from, she spotted a figure sitting on the ground in an alley way. She couldn't really make out any features other than the figure was a he. Her first thoughts were that the guys who had bumped into her had mugged someone. But wait – that wasn't right, they were running away in fear, leaving this bloke by himself.

Against her better judgment, Marie edged closer, her grip tightening on the umbrella. A flash of lightning zig-zagged across the sky, illuminating his face briefly. To tell the truth, she wasn't all that surprised. Even in such a large city, it seemed like she could not escape bumping into Izaki Shun. A secret part of the Red Head cheered that it was _He_ that won whatever fight that had previously ensued.

Izaki Shun remained motionless on the ground, back against the wall and unaware of Marie. It felt so hollow to have won, when he wished it had made him feel better. A throbbing ache bit at his ribs, as well as a searing sting above his eye from water rushing into an open wound. Then – there were two boot clad feet in front of him, and the water above had ceased.

"Ne," Marie's voice was full of a smile, "zubunure, Izaki." (Hey, you're all wet.) Something tugged at the corner of his mouth as he slowly peered up at her. Marie held out his umbrella over his body, shielding him from the weather. She had one hip cocked, an obnoxious smirk on her lips. It was then Izaki realized that it had been a while since he had actually smiled.

…..................................

"Ite na!" Izaki jerked his head to one side, annoyed by Marie's ministrations. (That fucking hurts!)

"Urese yo . . ." she roughly pulled his face back into the light, ". . . Gyaruo-kun." (Shut up . . . Mr. Girl.) Izaki scowled at her remark, but let it slide. He was sitting at the kitchen table, with the girl hovering over his face. Evenly, Marie dabbed at the wounds with an alcohol swab. They weren't much, but still they needed to be disinfected.

It didn't take much coercing to get him back to her apartment, in fact Marie thought it odd that the boy pretty much just let her drag him around to and fro. Silence from Izaki Shun wasn't anything new, yet this time it perturbed her more than it had in the past. There was a sort of pendulum swaying over their heads, and both of them knew it.

While Marie worked on patching him up, Izaki followed her movements. He never quite made it up to her eyes though. Instead - his was attention drawn to the subtle arch of a fine, pallid wrist or the few faint freckles oddly placed in the crease of her elbow. She worked diligently and swiftly, keeping skin contact with him no longer than necessary.

"Dekita!" (I'm finished!) Marie chirped merrily. She backed away from the table, then went about cleaning up. Ritualistically, the girl put on a pot of coffee, at last feeling the strained tension hovering about. They hadn't spoken since that night, nor had they seen each save for in the punk club the other day. Now they were being forced to endure each other, the inevitable conversation was here at long last.

"Ano . . . kohi nomitai?" Marie asked over her shoulder. (Um . . . want some coffee.) Silence. I should have known, she thought, it's not gonna' be easy. Izaki studied her back, searching for any sort of movement that would elude to her mood or what she was thinking. But there was none. He'd have to do what pained him the most: talk.

"Why?" Izaki finally asked. Taken by surprise, Marie quickly turned around. _My God, just as terrifyingly beautiful as ever. _Tilting her head to one side, she waited for him to continue. "Why did you – help me?" Okay – this really did flatten her to the spot.

"Doko de eigo o benkyo shitteru no?" (Where did you learn English?)

So now he was caught. For the first time in Izaki Shun's life, he had studied. Well, not vigorously or really expecting to get anywhere, but he had studied. English no less. Initially he was greatly deterred, finding it a great deal harder than he expected. Just what the hell possessed him to go out do such a thing – he couldn't quite tell you, even under torture. What he could say was that it was partly because he had the bizarre desire to converse with Marie in her own native tongue. Seeing her switch back and forth between either language (more or less) made him respect her a great deal.

Still a bit unsure of himself, Izaki told her, "Books."

"Ah," she nodded, then added a slight chuckle. Sighing, Marie moved across the kitchen to join Izaki at the table. She placed her hands atop the table palms up. To answer his question, she sighed wearily, "Nandaka shiranai. So kana . . ." (I don't know why. I wonder . . .) Really, it wasn't as if she did much, in her opinion anyway. Sure she gave him a towel to help him dry off and cleaned his wounds, but it's not like it was a kidney or anything.

"Daijobu dayo," Izaki gave a sort-of-smile. (It's okay.) "Don't worry about it." Simultaneously the two teens let out a short burst of laughter. Everything was so funny now, how could it not be? Where once lay uncomfortable feelings and bumbling words, was an easy, friendly atmosphere.

Long into the night, they drank coffee and talked. Past occurrences and grievances were off limits though, avoided like the plague. Somewhere along the way they moved to the living room to watch TV. Marie fell asleep first, on the couch, sitting up. And if Izaki hadn't been so tired himself, he would have laughed. Instead, the boy took the gentlemanly route and moved to the recliner. He let his gaze linger on her form a bit longer than needed, then fell to sleep at last.

**Author's Note and Miscellaneous Crapola**

**Hello and salutations faithful readers! Just to inform you I've been terribly sick and not really able to get out of bed so I almost forgot to put this up. When I wrote this story a while back I made it a point to move Marie and Izaki along slowly so it would emphasize how important their relationship is. If I haven't said so before, I'll say it now – I don't like romances that rush into things in my story. Especially if there's a Mary Sue involved. So I really did try to give Marie all my flaws and some made up ones, too! **

**Per usual, thanks for reading and reviewing, I love you all forever. Minna ni ja ne!!!!!!!!!!!!!! **


	11. Chapter 52

**Chapter V. II**

**Mirai Wa Bokura No Te No Naka**

**(The Future Is In Our Hands.)**

The next morning came all too quickly for Marie. One sleepy eye popped open for a few moments, then was followed by the other. Instantaneously the girl sat up with a jerk, lost her balance on the couch, then fell off it landing face first. " . . . Ugh . . . itai . . ." (ugh . . . it hurts . . .) Carefully, Marie pulled herself up to a sitting position, rubbing her slightly upturned nose. Then – she remembered Izaki. Her head whipped back and forth, all around the room. But there was no Izaki Shun to be found. She figured he had gone home, to which saddened her a bit because she didn't get to tell him bye or anything.

Rubbing her nose once more, the Red Head jumped up renewed with energy. Time to look for a job, she nodded to herself, then held up a clenched fist. "Yoosshhhhhh!!! Gambatte!" (Alllrighttt!!! Go For It!) She had been putting it off for too long and the logical side of her mind had been incessantly nagging her. There was no other choice but grin and bear it.

* * *

There had to be some sort of bad luck hanging around Marie McMiller. To elaborate – there was no one willing to hire her. A lot of people smiled condescendingly at her when she inquired about a job simply because they thought she was a little kid. What the hell?! That just pissed her off immensely. Then there were the few cafe/restaurant owners that were "secretly" racist. Fucking bastards, she thought as she stomped her way to Ruka's house, they could have done a better job at hiding their disdain for foreigners.

As she neared the store, Marie spotted Ruka chopping up some vegetables for a customer. When Ruka noticed the Red Head ambling up, she instantly brightened and waved to her. Marie took a seat just outside the store one the sidewalk then angrily lit up a cigarette. Silently she seethed, conjuring all the curse words she knew to direct at all the shopkeepers who had snobbishly turned her away earlier.

"Hey!" Ruka kneeled down in front of Marie, peering closely into her face. "What's up? You look like someone just kicked your puppy."

"Might as well have . . ." she mumbled, then flicked her smoke off into the street.

"Huh?"

" . . . nothing. I just can't find a job – that's all."

"Oh, I see." Ruka plopped down beside her friend, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Well, Kyoko's in the same predicament,you know. Her Dad lost his job at the company and they can't afford to pay her way through the school anymore."

"No way!"

"Yeah, it's so lame. She came by earlier and had some Miso Soup. Kyoko's really depressed that she has to go back to public school."

"It's not right," Marie ground her teeth before she continued, "she should have won that scholarship. If hadn't been for that douche Ma Yung."

"He's a tool."

Marie burst out with a huge guffaw, Ruka's choice of words just too priceless for any further comment. Abruptly, the laughter ceased and Marie asked, "Did you say Miso Soup?"

"I thought you might be bumming around today, so I told Mom to save you some."

* * *

Purposefully, Marie slurped her soup extra annoyingly. Ruka tittered as she waited on a random customer who looked disdainfully at the "crazy foreigner." Once the store was empty again, Marie sighed a breath of relief. Really it got kind of tiresome having to bear all the staring and ugly looks. That aside, the Miso had done wonders at putting her in a better mood. Somehow it (and strong coffee mind you) always mad her feel better when she was down.

"Oh-my-God . . . " Ruka stared dumbly out into the street.

"Eh?" Marie pushed her bowl away, confused completely.

"G-Genji . . ." she quickly pointed outward, then turned around. Swiftly, the lithe girl smoothed down her hair and checked her face out in the reflection of a huge butcher knife. Seeing Ruka go through all these motions allowed Marie a rare contented smile: she's too adorable for own good. Although holding that huge ass knife did make her a tad bit crazy looking. When Ruka finally turned back around, she caught her friend blatantly staring.

"You should know – Izaki's with him."

"What?!" Marie hissed, then choked on her own words. After she caught her breath again, the girl jumped up, joining her friend behind the table. "Let me see that damn knife!!!" The Red Head went through the same motions as Ruka had previously, except when Marie was done, she still looked like she had just rolled out of bed. Curse that unruly Scarlet head of hair . . .

"Ne, genki datta," Genji smoothly greeted, ever the epitome of cool, tough guy. (Hey, what's up?)

Instantly, Ruka reverted back to bubbly school girl, which only served to make her seem more adorable. Marie felt heat surge to her cheeks as she could sense Izaki Shun's presence. Taking a few deep, calming breaths, she deliberately turned back around to face the two boys. Per usual – she was stunned speechless by Izaki's fierce looks. Only now they were somewhat dimmed, hidden behind a pair of huge, white rimmed designer sunglasses. Just what the hell was that all about, Marie pondered. On any other person she probably would have labeled them stuck up or show off, but on this particular boy . . . wow!

"Uun, nan demo nai," Ruka smiled brightly at Genji to which he could only look at her expressionlessly. (Nothing really.) Marie stood back, watching the little interaction. She found Takiya Genji immensely interesting for the mere fact that he was able to keep a straight face in any situation. Often, Marie wondered if he'd be able to pull it that off if Ruka just up and flashed him the goods.

"Hisashiburi dayona?" Izaki's voice wafted to Marie's ears, low and sultry like a warm drink on a cold day. When she looked up to his face, the girl saw the corner of his mouth slightly twitch. Wow, the girl thought, he actually made a joke – and, sort of(?) smiled. But it wasn't until Ruka jabbed the shorter girl in the side to make her speak that Marie actually graced Izaki Shun with a response . . .

". . . heh heh heh so-so." For the benefit of her own reputation, Marie withheld the part of how Izaki had stayed over last night. Besides, it was really nobody's business.

As before, Ruka and Genji could not help but notice the strange feeling strangling the atmosphere. Tensions ran high between these two particular people, a blind, deaf, retarded monkey could see that. So, like any good friend and comrade would do, Genji said, "Ruka, chotto ii?" (Got a minute?) He motioned toward the street, an attempt to finally get at what they were doing here in the first place.

"Un," Ruka nodded joyously, then they stepped out of the shop together. Marie looked like someone had just slapped across the face. How could she just leave to go make kissy-kissy with Genji?

"Hey!" Izaki waved a hand in front of her face. "Daijoka?" (Hey, you okay?)

"Uh . . . sure – perfecto," yet her eyes told a much different story. Marie was eying Genji and Ruka suspiciously, trying her hardest to decode all the weird body language going on. Izaki chortled, amused at how unsubtle she was being.

"Ara . . ." Izaki shook his head momentarily, "honto ni hen na." (You know . . . you're really weird.) Kohl rimmed Green eyes flicked back to Izaki, finally acknowledging him. He had a sort of casual attitude thrown on today, something that Marie found was rather becoming. It was better than that brooding all the time. . .

"Yeah, I get that all the time," she shrugged uncaring. A moment later the light bulb moment overcame her: "Did he finally grow a set and ask her out?" Izaki tilted his head to one side, his face unwavering. It still took him a little bit sometimes to understand what Marie was talking about, but that was probably because she spouted inane slang all the time.

Finally Izaki emitted one of those rare, dazzling grins of his, "Himitsu dayo." (That's a secret.)

"Tch," the Red Head scoffed, then stuck out her tongue at him, "baka jan. Everyone knows . . . " and in all her superb intelligence, Marie proceeded to deliver an off key version of "Genji and Ruka sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes – ow! What the hell?!" In the midst of acting like a doofus, she totally missed that Ruka and Genji were listening to the tail end of the song. Aghast wasn't even the right sentiment that Aizawa Ruka felt now.

"Ikareten ja nai no?" (Are you crazy or what?) Ruka marveled at her friend. Sharply, she latched on to Marie's elbow, dragging her away from the boys. "I can't believe you just did that in front of them."

Wrenching her arm out of Ruka's grasp, Marie said, "Whatever, it's not like it's a secret that you want to."

"Well – you didn't have to sing about it."

"Yes I did."

"Look, shut up for like two seconds and listen me, okay?"

I have a bad feeling about this, Marie thought, yet none the less stayed silent. Surprised that she actually shut her big gob, Ruka forgot what she was going to ask. "Well?" Marie prompted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Okay, I need a favor, but before I tell you what is you have to know that I'll be eternally grateful and owe you forever and ever . . ."

"All right, Jesus, chillax would ya'? This has to be big because you know usually being indebted to me is like being indebted to Yakuza."

"Well, okay, so . . . Genji just sort of kind of asked me out."

"Okaaayyyy . . . and where do I fit into this little equation? And how the hell can someone sort of kind of ask you out? It's either you do it or don't." In her head Marie added 'there is no try' refusing to pass up a Star Wars quote (more or less.)

"I was getting to that. It's a group thingy – or will be if you say yes. Please, please, please say yes!" Ruka bowed deeply and hung there until Marie rolled her eyes and pulled her back up.

"I hate it when you do that, you know? Don't tell me I'm suppose be Makise's date, because HELL NO. Out of the question."

"No, of course not. Besides I think he still feels guilty about the last group date fiasco."

"So whose presence would I have to suffer through."

"Izaki of course."

". . ."

"You like him don't you?"

"That's not the point," Marie waved a hand back and forth as if trying wave off the blunt reality of her feelings. "I don't like being forced into things like this."

"So . . . is that a yes or a no?"

"All right, I guess . . . but one day I'm gonna' come to you and ask you to repay this favour."

"Okay, Godfather, am I going to wake up with a dead horse in bed?"

"Maybe."

"Oh, shut up, idiot. You didn't even quote it right." Simultaneously they made identical silly faces at one another, then giggled over it.

"I know," she grinned wildly as if that were her intention all along. "So, what exactly does this group date entail?"

* * *

Not too far away, Genji was stumbling over his words in attempts to get Izaki to join in on the group date. As much as Takiya Genji could be stubborn, pig headed, and keep a straight face through it all – Izaki Shun could stand toe to toe with him.

"Oyogu?" Izaki practically choked on the word itself. (Swimming?) Of all the places and thing they could have done on a group date, swimming makes an appearance. A hot springs maybe could have tempted the Blonde, but he was seriously doubtful about the entire ordeal. Swimming would entail having to wear shorts, and if it was thing Izaki didn't do – it was shorts. "Honki? Uso?" (You're serious. Really?)

"Un," Genji nodded once, his cigarette dangling dangerously from his lips. Stoically he inhaled deeply then took it out of his mouth. He offered a somewhat formal bow, then added, "Onegai shimasu." (Please.) Izaki wanted to laugh or smile mockingly maybe, but he did neither.

"Ii yo." (All right.) "Ore yaru. Demo oyogu wa anmari suki ja nai." (But I don't like swimming that much.)

"Ah, kedo . . . " Genji paused for a moment, then inclined his head in the girls direction, "Marie no ga suki daro?" (Yeah, but you like her, don't you.)

"Yokei na osewa." (That's none of your business.)

Scoffing, Genji threw his cigarette away. As if on some sort of bizarre cue, a high-pitched squeal resounded over the streets. They looked toward the girls, finding that Ruka and Marie were clinging to each other while spinning around merrily. For a long while all Izaki and Genji could do was stare open mouthed at the two. Hmm, guess some fantasies can come true . . .

* * *

"Omae!!!" Marie called from below the balcony up toward her apartment. Tamao and Tokio were hanging over the railing, idly chatting and smoking. They stared down at her, thinking that she really had gone daft _this_ time. She had climbed one of the larger trees and was now standing on a limb. "Serizawa rumpen mitai na kakko shite irunna ne?" (You're dressing like a bum now, huh?)

Tokio snickered, then cleared his throat to try and hide it. Tamao merely cocked that infamous half-grin, humoured by his ex's actions. "Urase na! Kankei nai daro!" Tamao yelled back down to her. (Shut the hell up and mind your own business!)

"Nani shitten no?" (What are you doing?) Tokio asked, finding the Red Head in the tree to be the most insane woman he had ever encountered. Like a lazy Cat, Marie stretched then climbed back down. In no time at all she was standing by their side.

"Hara hetaaaa . . ." she strung out the words while rubbing her tummy emphatically. (I'm hungryyyy . . .) "Nanika tabeyo. Okay?" (Let's get some food.)

"Nani?" Tokio spluttered, "Ima?" (What? Now?)

Grabbing Tamao's arm playfully, she began to drag him off toward her favourite food vendor. He shrugged in Tokio's general direction, allowing himself to be tugged away by Marie. "Atarimae dessho!" the girl called over her shoulder, her stomach not willing to wait on Tokio's apprehension. With a sigh and smile on his lips, Tokio followed after them.

* * *

The public swimming pool was moderate in beauty and was built more to save space and to accommodate than anything else. But such were the ways of building establishments here. Ruka and Marie were to meet Genji and Izaki there, but per usual they running late. Mostly due to Marie who had put off buying a bathing suit right up until oh – about two hours ago. She thanked whatever gods that existed for the fact she could wear shorties over her bathing suit. Bikinis and her didn't mix, besides they weren't allowed here at this particular pool.

After the automated showers and much grumbling (two guesses as to who was doing the grumbling), the girls emerged and took up seats on the bleachers surrounding the pool. It wasn't long before their dates came from the opposite end they had, looking absolutely unaffected by having to dress in swim trunks. Marie bit the inside of her cheek, irked to say the least.

Both girls followed each step the boys took, time momentarily slowing down . . . Genji was a naturally thin boy, the blessings of being young and Asian apparently. For all his litheness, his body was teeming with lean muscle and almost boundless amounts of strength. Aizawa Ruka ogled (her hopefully soon to be boyfriend) unabashedly.

Then there was Izaki Shun, slender as well, but a tad bit shorter than his counterpart. Marie elected to study him in a clinical sense, or at least that's what she tried to tell herself. None-the-less – her curious eyes traced the contours of his body unashamed and uncaring. He too hid a deep, muscly sinew just beneath the skin.

"Domo," Ruka managed as she stood up to greet Genji. (Hey.) He nodded in recognition, wishing that he could light up. Marie remained seated, tugging at her Black shorties, desperately trying to hide her upper thighs. How was it that boys could just about walk around naked and feel no shame. Interrupting the bipolar rant going on within her head, Genji said to Ruka, "Sa ikuka." (Let's go.) He motioned with his head toward the pool, then took his leave, expecting Ruka to follow him wordlessly.

The Red Head squinted momentarily at the couple, but kept her tongue between her teeth. _Left again, all alone, with Him. _Marie rested her chin in her hands, then blew a long tuft of hair out of her face. It had been forever since she cut her hair, and now it hung to her shoulders, disordered as ever. Though she put on a good show of having a horrendous time, in all actuality Marie was glad to have Izaki there. Misery loves company; if she was going suffer the googly eyes that Ruka and Genji incessantly made at one another, then he was going to suffer right along with her.

Izaki glanced at his best friend as he ambled off with Ruka, then quickly looked back to Marie. Shrugging, he sat beside her, leaning back and stretching out like a lazy cat. The duo sat in silence, slackly watching all the people swim around or what not.

Marie sighed again, crossing her arms over her chest. This was a last resort to try and shield herself from prying eyes. _Not that they'd get much of a peep show, I have the curvatures of a 12 year old girl. Except for those Irish hips and ass – there's no getting around those behemoth things. _

"Daijoka?" Izaki asked, using all of his will power not trace every inch of the girl next to him. (You okay?) The fact that Marie was dressed in so little was not lost upon him. Because at the end of the day he was still a teenaged boy.

"Eh?" Marie was slightly startled at the intrusion to her mind's wanderings. She added one more tug at her shorts, then finally grew a little courage to uncross her arms. "I'm fine. It's just . . . ugh . . . oyogu wa daikirai." (I really hate swimming.)

Izaki wasn't a stupid man. Judging from all the fidgeting she was doing, he figured she really meant she hated dressing so scantily. Which for the life of him the boy couldn't understand. She was petite, slender, and only she could be ever so pale and not look sickly. And then there were her eyes; Izaki thought he could have looked into her eyes forever and never get bored. "Ore mo." (Me too.) He finally said, then added "I came because of you."

"Oh," was all the girl could fathom, and she knew she sounded cold and stupid. This only served to embarrass the boy even more. English words felt thick and dry on his tongue, still unused to speaking it. It was agonizing not to know what the hell the girl was thinking. While their conversation and general interaction was strained, they both marveled at Genji and Ruka who had finally become used to one another. They were laughing, splashing one another, and then it turned into a dunking war.

"They look good together," Marie blurted out, incapable of hiding the endearing smile starting to form. From his peripheral vision Izaki watched her, attempting to get inside her head. It was pointless. He found that she was too tumultuous to judge her at first glance. Marie changed like the weather: sometimes stormy and raging like a monsoon, or sunny, bright with smiles and laughter, and then at times so cold that she mirrored one of those ice statues. He knew though – from the first time he saw her cry that night – Izaki simply knew that he wanted to be by her side. But how could he tell her that? Or, did he even want tell her that?

Suddenly, Marie stood up, a determined look about her. Izaki jerked up into a fully erect sitting position. He gulped quietly at coming into contact with an ideal view of the Red Head's body. Discreetly he scooted a few inches down the bleachers. "Okay," Marie stated, more to herself than anyone else, "I'm going in now." Yet she remained standing, giving the pool the evil eye. Izaki dared to look back up at the girl, assured that most of his blush had cooled. A few more minutes passed, and still Marie could not move.

Izaki erupted with loud, amused laughter. It was nice to see such a vulnerable side to the girl. Not many people ever saw such a thing draped around her shoulders, so for her to be shedding layer after layer in front of Izaki Shun was something of a big deal.

"Mada ii?" (Ready yet?) Izaki questioned, snickering with delight.

"Shut up, you," she blithely looked over her shoulder and grinned, "I'll go when I'm damned well ready to go." It was then he finally noticed the tattoo on her shoulder blade. Izaki's smile faded as he gazed at the body art. That was probably the last thing he ever expected to see. And trust me he had done a lot of fantasizing, so he had tons of images stored up.

Upon Marie's left shoulder blade sat the Norse Dragon Grael, clutching a Pentacle tightly. So entranced by the beautiful image, Izaki barely noticed that she had started her descent toward the pool. Little did they know that all hell was about to break loose.

Marie barely got off the bleachers when she saw a lifeguard trotting up in her direction. "Chotto mate, kudasai!" The man held out a hand toward her for emphasis. She looked around a bit, unsure if he was talking to her or not. When he came to stand in front of her, there wasn't a doubt. Izaki looked on at the entire situation unfolding, and he knew that no good could come from this. The boy rushed toward them, hoping to resolve it without making a scene.

"Tattoos aren't allowed," the lifeguard pointed to her back.

"Huh?" Marie gaped, not really believing what she just heard. What the hell? It's just a tattoo, right? Izaki bounded over the last row of bleachers, coming to stand beside Marie. Softly he interlaced his hand with hers, pulling her back into him a little.

"Sorry," the lifeguard glanced disdainfully down at the little show of affection. The tone of voice spoke multitudes of deeply buried resentment. "You can't swim here."

Before she could yell or scream or release all those profanities laying atop her tongue, Izaki leaned down to her ear, his breath warm and sweet. "Ome, mo deyo. Okay?" (Hey, let's get out of here. Okay?) She squeezed his hand hard, but refused to back down.

"Honki?" (You're serious?) Marie scoffed in disgust. As progressive as a country that Japan was, like old habits, old beliefs die hard. Tattoos are still too closely linked with Yakuza, so it wasn't uncommon for this sort of thing to pop up. But Marie tended to take things too personally.

"Zen zen tsummane," (This is lame.) Izaki added, his lips so very close again. The very feel of him soothed her ire, cooling the flames by sending shivers down her spine. The couple turned their back on the rude lifeguard, walking silently away. But Marie just couldn't leave well enough alone. She wheeled back around, marching up to the astounded man. Instead of making a huge scene, the Red Head hissed through clenched teeth, "Baka ni shinai deyo. Kimi shitteru . . . minna ni iu kara. Kangaeta mite." (Don't think I'm stupid, I know you. I'm gonna' tell all my friends. Think about it.) Her voice was dangerous, but so low that no one would ever have the slightest clue.

Marie turned back around back to Izaki, who had somehow managed to catch every single word through their distance. "I'm going to get dressed," she told him easily, then headed toward the locker room. He was amused and really not all that surprised at her outburst. In fact he was amazed that she hadn't even let her voice rise. Never a dull moment with Marie McMiller around.

* * *

Izaki Shun watched as Marie McMiller slurped up noodle after noodle rather audibly. Then she gulped down some of the broth. He stared quizzically: where the hell did she put it all? That had been her third bowl. This was probably one of the only occasions where such rude manners could be overlooked. The louder you slurped your Ramen, the more of a compliment it was to the cook. The two teens were at a Ramen stand, eating a late lunch, which was actually more fun than it sounded.

An elderly man with a white apron draped around him leaned over the counter, "Ehh, sore ga oishii?" (Is it good?)

"Un!" Marie expounded happily, then wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Honto honto oishii, Oji-san! Arigato gossaimasu." (Yep! Really really delicious, Uncle! Thank you.) Swinging her legs to and fro on the stool, the girl smiled gratefully. Somehow it accentuated on just how short she was. If you were to compare her and Izaki (his feet easily rested on the ground) you'd think he was the elder and not her (by one year.) "Mecha mecha sukikatta!" (I really liked it!)

Uncle smiled then chuckled at the girl's sprightliness. In all honesty, Marie had taken him by surprise. Izaki was the sort of young man he had seen a hundred times over: acting too cool to care or broodiness in general. But then the little Red Head had meandered up, plopped down, and ordered for the both of them in perfect (well sort of) Japanese. Marie had even offered up an "Itadakimasu" before she dug into her first bowl of noodles. It was nice to see that some young people still had manners.

A faint grin touched the corners of Izaki's mouth and he shook his head slightly. It really was endearing how excited Marie could get over simplistic Ramen. Sighing softly, Marie patted her stomach contentedly. "Gochisosama deshita! Ne, Izaki-kun?" (What a feast! Right, Izaki?) She elbowed her companion in the arm to end his silence.

"Ah," Izaki agreed, lighting up another cigarette. He pretended to be unaffected by the way she addressed him, but the rosy tint on his cheeks betrayed him. "Oishii." (Yeah, it was good.) The Blonde offered a slight nod toward Uncle.

Satisfied at Izaki finally showing some grace, Marie nodded to herself. "Ikura kakaru no?" she asked, reaching into her pocket for some cash. (How much is it?) Izaki instinctively reached out and stopped her

"I got it."

"You sure?"

"Un." (Yeah.) He stood up and reached into his back pocket, the chains attached to his wallet jingling. Casually Izaki took out a few bills and handed them to Uncle. The owner disappeared around the corner for a moment leaving the two alone. Marie turned to Izaki, giving him a sincere look.

"Arigato, Izaki-kun."

"Mondai nai yo." He met her gaze full on and his breath caught in his throat, enabling him to speak. Well, more than usual anyhow. Marie somehow found her eyes tracing his lips, then absentmindedly licked her own. Izaki's face still burned with embarrassment, but that did nothing to stop the magnetic pull forcing him closer to her. However . . .

Uncle reappeared again almost as quickly as he had gone, sliding Izaki's change across the counter. He had no clue that he had interrupted what probably would have been a sweet moment. Yawning, Marie stood up motioning to Izaki that she was off to the restroom.

"Oi!" Uncle whispered conspiratorially to Izaki Shun once Marie was completely out of earshot. "Nanka chigawanai?" (Hey, what's wrong with you?) Izaki's face melted back into untouched stone once more. The last thing he wanted right now was an earful of prejudices.

"Nani?" (What?) He enunciated each syllable slowly, taking deliberate breaths to curve his anger.

"Koibito desu ka?" (Your lover?)

The cigarette that had been dangling from his lips fell from his mouth dropping directly between his legs. Not a second later, Izaki was on his feet frantically brushing away the burn from the front of his jeans. Oji-san laughed uproariously at the young man's reaction. Quickly the Blonde sat back down on the wooden stool, humiliated beyond belief.

"Ahh," Uncle sighed regretfully, "naruhodo. Hidoi na . . ." (I see. What a pity . . .)

"Do iu imi?" (What do you mean?) Izaki briefly pondered if he was really that translucent. Probably. Especially after that ill timed kiss. Marie more than likely saw right through him, while she was still aloof as a lone Panther.

"Ahh . . . motto wakai toki wa . . ." (Ahh, to be young again . . .) For some strange reason Izaki's interest was perked. He leaned forward a bit, hanging on every word. "Ma . . . shitteru daro?" (Well, you know don't you)

"Ie, shiran. Goto goto iwanai de." (No, I don't know. Stop beating around the bush and say what you mean.)

"Konojo wa honto ni kawaii na." (She's really pretty.) Uncle winked for good measure and added a chuckle for fun.

"So dato omou," Izaki put on an air of nonchalance. (Yeah, I guess so.)

All at once the old man turned serious. The problem with young people these days, he mused often, not only do they have no manners, but they think they have all the time in the world. It really was a pity. "Baka yatten ja neyo. Kintama doko ni tsuiteru no?" (Don't be stupid. Where the hell are your balls?)

"Eh?!" he exclaimed loudly, glad that he hadn't lit up another smoke. That one too would have fell in his lap. Uncle shook his head once more.

"Ah, asoko mite," the old man motioned in Marie's direction. (Look over there.) Before she reached the two men, Uncle elaborated on his few words of wisdom, "Gambare." And he winked again, a sparkle in his knowledgeable eyes.

Marie came to stand beside Izaki grinning ear to ear. What looked like a bad day in the making turned out to be a good one for her. This was something she was much grateful for. Then she picked up on an eerie quietness hanging about.

"Ne ne, nanka ata?" (Hey, what's up.)

Coming out of his stupor, the Blonde boy merely replied, "Nan demo nai. Sa iko." (It's nothing. Let's go.)

"Okaaayyyy," Marie strung out the words in disbelief, "whatever you say." Letting her curiosity lay dormant for once, the girl followed Izaki with out another word.

**Author's Note and Other Crapola.**

Okay kiddies so it's been a long time and I honestly apologize for that. I've been rather busy with the new job I got back in October. But I really love it because essentially I get watch movies all day. So the next time you get an import movie from Japan, it could have been me subtitling it. Hahaha. :D

Back to it . . .

Thank you guys for all your support and reviews. I love that you love my story and are really interested as to see what happens. I love you all from the bottom of my heart. :DDDDD

On another note . . .

I don't appreciate people stealing my work or using my wordings and such. I think you're a real douche bag for being so vindictive because of envy. You're truly a despicable human being. I spit on you.

Once again, minna ni arigato ne. Keep reading an reviewing, I appreciate beyond belief. XoXo


End file.
